


Miraculous

by ESawyer



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: #groundbreaking, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Coming Out, F/M, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Uganda (Book of Mormon Musical), THE BOOK THING, The most controversial thing I have ever written because Connor is TALLER than Kevin, This is the most self-indulgent thing that I have ever written, but no one can stop me, rip my 'connor is so short you cant even see him without a microscope' headcannon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22465303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESawyer/pseuds/ESawyer
Summary: Love makes your soul climb out from its hiding placeKevin Price is happy to live a lie; Connor McKinley is not.
Relationships: Arnold Cunningham/Nabulungi Hatimbi, Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price, Kevin Price/Original Female Character(s), Kevin Price/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 82





	1. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A look at Kevin Price's teenage years through the lense of anxiety.**

When he is fifteen years old, Kevin Price has his first panic attack. His parents sit him and his four younger siblings down, their faces set in frowns. Immediately, Kevin assumes that one of them has done something wrong, and subconsciously puts his arm around his five year old brother, Eddie, pulling him closer. 

“Your Grandma died this afternoon,” 

Kevin senses the eyes of his siblings on him at once; he is the older brother, he is smart and always knows what to say, always knows how to calm them down. 

“I’m sorry, kids,” their dad continues, “but she was old, almost one hundred! She lived a good life. She loved you all very much, but Heavenly Father wanted her back,” 

“B-But _I_ want her back!” Rose, his only sister cries, clutching Kevin’s shirt in her hands and sobbing into it, “It’s not fair! It’s not fair!”

Kevin runs a strangely sweaty palm up and down her back, suddenly hyper aware of everything; the ticking of the clock on the wall feels like tiny hammers hammering against his brain and Eddie’s breathing is ten times it’s usual volume. He takes his arm from around Eddie and gently nudges Rose over to Jack, before standing up and walking away without a word. 

“Kevin!” his mom shouts, “Kevin, darling, come and sit down, it’s OK,” 

“I need - I need to be alone,” Kevin manages to gasp out before he shoots up the stairs and bursts into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Breaths tumbling out of him in strained gasps, Kevin slides down his bedroom door and rests his forehead on his knees, his heart beating much faster than it ever has done before. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to get a grip of whatever is going on with him. 

He draws his knees closer to his chest and begins scratching along the side of his thumb with his index finger. Slowly but surely, the feeling of his nail scraping away at his skin brings him back to his senses long enough to realise that there is someone knocking on his door. 

At once, Kevin scrambles to his feet and smooths his hair back into place. 

“Kev? Are you - are you OK?” 

“I’m fine, Bran,” Kevin says, quickly opening the door when he realises that it is brother. 

Brandon, ten years old and yet to hit a growth spurt, looks up at him with wide eyes. 

“You look sad,” he remarks. He pauses, “I’m sad,” 

“I know, it’s OK,” Kevin says, jerking his head to let him in the room. 

Brandon pushes passed him, and plops down onto his bed, crossing his legs underneath him and resting his chin on his hand. 

“I don’t get it,” 

“You don’t get what?” 

“Death. Like...where is Grandma?” 

“Heaven,” Kevin says, “You know that. It says it in the Book of Mormon,” 

“I still don’t get it,” 

Kevin snorts, “Start listening in Church then,” 

Brandon grumbles something under his breath and flops down onto his back. Now that he isn’t looking, Kevin lets out another shaky breath and drops his chin down to his chest, his finger scratching at his thumb again. He isn’t sure what is happening to him, and he is terrified that the Book of Mormon wouldn’t even have the answer. 

* * *

The next time Kevin has a panic attack is two weeks later. It comes on quickly, but takes its sweet time in leaving.

He is taking 4 AP classes, - because there is no way he _isn’t_ going to be valedictorian when the time comes - is on the soccer team, - West High’s top goal scorer, thank-you very much - all whilst dedicating the rest of his (limited) free time to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints because one day, he is going to be the greatest missionary that Orlando, Florida has ever seen.

But he isnt too much pressure on himself as his oldest cousin, Cait, likes to suggest that he is at every given opportunity. (“Do you think Joseph Smith thought he put too much pressure on himself when he was trying to reach the Promise Land, Cait?” ; “Honestly, Kev, you need to chill out. You’re a bit freaky sometimes). 

Kevin Price, however, does not believe in ‘chilling out’ because ‘chilling out’ is just slacking off when there's scripture to read, matches to be played and math equations to be solved. 

Only the math equation that was in front of him didn’t seem to want to be solved. He stares down at the tiny black _x_ that seems to be sneering up at him, as though it knows that there is no way he will ever be able to find it. He looks up from his work, his eyes darting around the classroom; Noah Young - the only person who might ever overtake him achievement wise - is leaning against the wall and twirling his pen around his fingers as he happily announces that he’s solved the equation. Next to him, a girl - who’s name he can never remember, but who he always catches her staring at him - triumphantly throws her pen to the table. 

“I’ve got it too, Mr Woods!”

Kevin’s palms go clammy and his mouth dry, he drops hhs eyes back to his worksheet and tries to force himself into thinking logically, but he _can’t._ And if he can’t work it out by the time the bell rings, he’ll have to stay behind at lunch time, which means that he’ll miss out on extra study time in the library, which will lead to him failing all his classes, missing out on valedictorian, getting a terrible mission placement, being rejected by BYU and-

“Hey, Kevin,” the girl next to him hisses, “the answer is 55,” 

“W-What?”

“The answer. It’s 55,” 

“Mr Price!” Mr Woods exclaims, “The answer is-”

“Uh...55?” 

Mr Woods smiles at him, “Well done,” 

Kevin lets out a sigh of relief and turns to the girl next to him, offering a small smile. 

“Thank-you,” he whispers. 

She grins and winks, which confuses Kevin more than the equation, “No problem,” then she frowns, “You look like you’re going to puke,” 

“I think - I think I am,” he says, jumping to his feet, “tell sir that I - oh, gosh,” 

He tears from the classroom and into the boys toilets, kicking a cubicle open and dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, his eyes streaming and throat burning. He collapses against the cool plastic of the cubicle wall, breathing heavily through his nose. 

“Uh...hello? Everything OK in there?” 

He jumps to his feet and opens the cubicle door to a chubby, curly haired student who Kevin might have seen at church before. 

“Fine,” Kevin mutters, wiping his mouth. 

“You don’t look fine,” 

Kevin glares and pushes passed him. Hands still shaking, he turns the tap on and splashes water into his mouth. 

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s rude to pry?” Kevin says. 

“No, she taught me to be kind to everyone I meet! And you look like you could do with some kindness!” 

“I don’t need-”

“Hey, Price. I didn’t know you were friends with Cunningham. Or have you come here to makeout with him?” 

Kevin rolls his eyes to see Noah in the doorway, wearing that cocky grin of his that Kevin would very much likely to punch off him.

“Very funny, Noah,” Kevin mutters, because they are actually friends - or whatever the word is for ‘ _people Kevin hangs around with so he stays popular and unbullied_ ’. 

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” the boy asks. 

“Came to check up on your boyfriend, here,” 

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Kevin snaps, “I don’t even know him,”

Noah laughs, “You can never take a joke, Kev. I’ll tell Woods you’ll be back soon,” 

When Noah has walked away, the boy turns to him with an outstretched hand. 

“You don’t know me right now, but you can if you want!” 

“I don’t,” Kevin says. 

The hurt look on the boys face bothers Kevin for ten minutes before he completely forgets that he ever existed in the first place. 

* * *

“Kev, Noah said you’ve gone insane?” 

Kevin looks over at Rob - another friend who isn’t really his friend - and then over at Noah. They’re sitting in the library, a place that Kevin usually likes to go alone. But even though he likes studying alone, his friends do not. They are just distracting and will probably be the reason he only gets 95% on this essay. 

“Have you told everyone?” 

“Dude, you’re the one who had a mega freak out in math!” Noah says, “They’re only numbers, they’re not gonna hurt you,”

“I didn’t freak out, I was just ill!” Kevin snaps. 

“It’s because he was sitting next to a pretty girl,” Noah says, “poor, little Mormon Kevvy can’t deal with pretty girls,”

“We’re all Mormon,” Kevin points out. 

“No one’s quite as Mormon as you though, are they?” Rob sniggers, “You haven’t even kissed a girl yet,” 

“We don’t date till we’re sixteen,”

“So you’re going to get a girlfriend when you’re sixteen, are you?” Noah asks. 

Kevin feels his face heating up, “I - yeah. Why not?”

Noah scoffs, “I’ll believe that when I see it,” 

* * *

When Kevin is 16, he gets his first girlfriend. He’s vice captain of the soccer team, she’s a cheerleader. It makes sense. Or that’s what Noah says, anyway. Kevin doesn’t think that it makes sense at all but makes the decision to not think about it, because when thinks about it, he starts thinking about other things - the sort of things he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about. 

His younger brother, Jack, finds it hilarious. Brandon finds it confusing. Then again, Brandon is only 12 and can be forgiven for not understanding the concept of having a girlfriend. 

“I can’t believe _you_ have a girlfriend,” Jack scoffs. 

They are walking to Church, and Kevin regrets ever agreeing to walk with them in the first place. He should have just made them get in the car with their parents and Rose and Eddie.

Kevin kicks him in the shin, “You’re annoying,” 

“What do you even _do_ with a girlfriend?” Brandon asks. 

Jack snorts, “Kevin probably just stands and waves at her from the other side of the hall in school,” 

Kevin kicks him in the shin again, “You’re still annoying,” 

“Girls seem pointless,” Brandon continues, ignoring his older brothers bickering like usual, “I don’t want a girlfriend,” 

“You’re only 12,” Jack says, “it’s not really the sort of thing you need to worry about,”

“Yeah, sort of like how you’re only 14 and it’s not the sort of thing you need to worry about,” Kevin snaps at Jack. 

“I’d rather have a boyfriend, I think,” 

Kevin almost trips over his own feet and Jack grabs onto his shoulder in shock, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. The three of them stand frozen in the middle of the street, only three blocks away from Temple Square. 

“No, you don’t,” Kevin says hurriedly, “You don’t want a boyfriend,” 

Brandon frowns, “Why not?”

Kevin and Jack exchange looks. 

“Because...because it’s not what Heavenly Father wants,” Kevin says, “he didn’t create men and men to be together, you know that,” 

“But Fred has a boyfriend!”

“Who the heck is Fred?” Jack asked. 

“David’s brother,” 

“Who the heck is-”

“His best friend,” Kevin says impatiently, “keep up, Jack,” 

“So if Fred can have a boyfriend, why can’t I?”

“Because it’s not - we’re not meant to, OK?” Kevin says, his palms going clammy, “to lie with another man is a - it’s a - it’s a sin,” 

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Bradon exclaims, stomping his foot, “Why is it OK for you to have a girlfriend but not me to have a boyf-”

“No!” Kevin yells, lurching forward and clapping a hand over Bradon’s mouth, “No! Stop it! You’re not allowed to have one, alright? Just - don’t mention it to mom and dad, OK?”

“It’s unfair!" Brandon snaps, ripping Kevin's hand from his mouth. 

“No it isn’t,” Kevin snaps back, “Just - stop talking about it. Come on, we’re going to be late,” 

They walk the rest of the way in silence, Kevin constantly casting furtive glances at Brandon and praying that _it’s just a phase, he’ll grow out of it, please, Heavenly Father, don’t make him like me. Don’t put him through what I’m going through. Please, Heavenly Father._

“You don’t think he’s actually gonna be a queer, do you?” Jack whispers in Kevin’s ear. 

Kevin nudges him with his elbow, “Don’t say that word! It’s not nice!”

Jack rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean. So, do you think he’s gonna be?” 

“I don’t - I dont know,” Kevin whispers, “let’s just try and forget about it,”

Their dad leads the service, but Kevin can barely pay attention. He sits and scratches at his thumb, his eyes squeezed shut as he continues his prayer to Heavenly Father. 

_Please, Heavenly Father, don’t let Brandon be like me. Don’t let him struggle like I do. Let him be normal. Let him be like Jack. Please, change him. Make him change. It’s all I ask. Please._

By the time the service ends, Kevin’s head is spinning and he would like nothing more than to crawl into bed and never have to leave his bedroom again. Whilst everyone is talking amongst themselves, Kevin slips out a side door and into the relative freedom of the grassy area next to the temple that is usually reserved for bored toddlers. (And now anxious teenagers, apparently).

“Hey!” 

Kevin almost jumps out of his skin when someone pokes him in the back. 

“Woah! Chill out! I didn’t want to scare you! Every time I see you you look like you’re gonna have a panic attack!”

He stares at the chubby face grinning at him, eyes almost obscured under a thick mane of curly hair. 

“Sorry, do I know you?” 

The grin falls slightly, “We go to school together,” 

Kevin blinks at him, “Uh...we do?”

“Yeah? We’ve...we’ve spoken before,” 

“Sorry, dude, I think you might have the wrong person,” Kevin says, “I gotta go back in. See you around,” 

Kevin was soon too distracted by talk of his mission to care about the fact that the curly-haired boy had looked nothing short of heartbroken when Kevin had walked away from him. 

* * *

Kevin stands in the hall of the MTC, shoulders squared and head held high as his name is called. This is it, the moment he has been waiting for his entire life. He’s going to go to Orlando, he’s going to do something incredible. Part of him is a little upset that he didn’t get paired with Elder Grant, though maybe that is for the best. The further from temptation he is, the better. 

“Your brother will be...Elder Cunningham!” 

_Who?_

“That’s me! Hi!”

There’s someone pressed right up against his shoulder, staring up at him behind thick rimmed glasses and grinning like they have known each other for years. Kevin manages a quick smile back. 

“Oh. Hi.” 

“And your mission location is....” 

Kevin holds his breath, finger scratching furiously against his thumb as he waits for the inevitable, ‘ _Orlando!’_ announcement. How could they not send him there? He’s worked hard, done everything - and _more_ \- to be the best Missionary he could be. 

“Uganda!” 

“...Uganda,” Kevin repeats. 

“Uganda? Cool!” Elder Cunningham shouts before turning to Kevin and tugging on his arm, “Where is that?”

_Great,_ Kevin thinks to himself, _I’m going to be stuck with an idiot for the most two important years of my life._

“Africa!”

“Oh, boy! Like Lion King!”

Kevin spends his last night in America curled up in a ball on his bed, trying to remember how to breathe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I don't have time for this   
> Also me: Lemme just write and plan a whole chapter   
> (i have no self control someone help)  
> ((thanks for reading))


	2. Aloe Vera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Elder Price learns that sometimes, even he can't just get ‘get on with it’.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/  
> Mentions of sexual assault

Kevin Price has always prided himself on the fact that he can just  _ get on with it.  _ It doesn’t matter what ' _i_ _ t _ ’ is, because he can just get on with it; his Grandma dying became a blip in his otherwise successful freshman year, his Grandad getting dementia and forgetting his name on his 19th birthday was upsetting, but nothing that he couldn’t deal with. Being sent to Uganda instead of Orlando might have finished him off, had he not been blessed with the ability to just  _ get on with it.  _

Uganda is the first time he realises that maybe he can’t just get on with it, and it is nothing short of terrifying. 

Seeing a man shot to death in front of him is what finally cracks him; the sound of the gunshot, the screams of the man's wife, the feeling of warm blood splattering all over him. He spits some blood out of his mouth, vaguely worrying about AIDs and how on Earth he is going to get all this blood out of his shirt. Elder Cunningham is no help, babbling incessantly about how being shot in real life is  _ nothing  _ like being shot in the movies. Kevin wonders if it would be frowned upon to swing for his mission companion, but stops himself because he can just  _ get on with it _ . He can deal with the sight of that man's face completely destroyed by the bullet burned into the back of his mind. 

It is only when he got into the mission hut that he realises that maybe he can’t. And he allows himself to let go - just a little bit. He allows himself to shout about how this mission is  _ nothing  _ like it should be and how Africa really is  _ nothing  _ like the Lion King. Then he let’s go a little too much, and Elder McKinley’s face is cradled in his hands, and they are both moving closer and- 

“The Mission President!” Kevin exclaims, realising that warlords aren’t the only reason he needs to get away, “That’s it! I have to see the Mission President and get transferred!”

And he runs and he runs and he  _ runs,  _ but it still isn’t enough. Because he somehow hasn’t managed to do enough despite never putting a foot wrong, despite doing  _ everything  _ the Church has ever asked him to do, despite just  _ getting on with it.  _

He had done  _ everything  _ right, and yet he isn’t the best missionary in the village.  _ Elder Cunningham _ , of all people, had been the one who managed to turn everything around. And it is Elder Cunningham who Elder McKinley is heaping with praise and he knows why that bothers him so much, and he _ hates  _ it. 

“This village is going to be  _ saved _ !” Kevin proclaims, because if  _ anyone  _ can do it, it is him.  _ Of course  _ it is him. This is what Heavenly Father wants. 

And Heavenly Father must have wanted to punish him for everything that he has done, everything that he  _ feels.  _ Why else would he have found himself bent over a table with the General and his men around him?

The next thing he knows, he is on all fours on a gurney, his arms shaking and sweat pouring down his face as Gotswanna stands next to him, resting a gentle hand on his back. 

“ _ Breathe,  _ Elder Price, you’ve done well. It’s out now. It’s over,” 

Kevin wretches and a bucket is thrust in front of him. He drops his head to the bed, scratching away at his thumb in a desperate attempt to distract himself from  _ everything.  _

“Would you like me to get someone for you? Elder Cunningham, maybe?” Gotswanna asks. 

“No, thank-you,” 

“You really shouldn’t be-”

“I said no,” Kevin snaps, “I don’t need help from anyone,” 

* * *

“Elder Price, where on  _ Earth  _ have you been? And the mission president is here! Goodness, why do you look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a bush?” 

Kevin blinks in the sunlight, squinting his eyes until Elder McKinley swam into focus in front of him. 

“Are you listening, Elder?” McKinley asks, peering closer at him, “What’s happened to you?” 

“Nothing,” Kevin mutters, swatting his hand away when he tries to brush the dirt off his shirt, “it’s nothing, Elder!” 

“You must think I was born yesterday,” McKinley tutts, “if you’re not covered in dirt, you’re covered in blood, if you’re not shouting at Elder Cunningham, you’re-”

“Yeah, I get it!” Kevin snaps, turning his focus to Nabulungi’s play, “Please be quiet, I’m trying to listen,” 

Elder McKinley clearly isn’t listening to Kevin though, because he just carried on muttering under his breath and was suddenly tucking his shirt in for him. 

“Honestly, have you ever heard of tucking your shirt in? It does wonders for looking like a put together-” 

Suddenly, his hands are tucking his shirt in at the back of his trousers. He swings around and hits McKinley in the shoulder, his eyes wide in fear. 

“Please, don’t - don’t touch,” he says, index finger working furiously against his thumb, “Please,”

McKinley takes half a step back, his hands raised in front of him, “Now, really, Elder Price, you need to tell me what-” 

_ “Hi, my name is Joseph Smith and I’m going to fuck this baby!” _

Kevin whirls around to face the play again, his mouth hanging open. 

“Oh, no. I am  _ so  _ dead,” McKinley whispers, “So,  _ so  _ dead,” 

Kevin has never watched a play so amazing. 

* * *

“Arnold?” 

“Yeah?”

“Did we - did we go to school together?”

Kevin hears the squeak of Arnold’s bed springs as he rolls onto his side. He can’t quite bring himself to face his mission companion yet, and keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling. 

“Um, yeah. We did,” Arnold says. 

“I was a dick to you, wasn’t I?” 

“Sorta, yeah,” Arnold mutters, “Well, it wasn’t - it wasn’t really you. Noah Young was. You were sorta just - you just ignored me, really,” 

Kevin feels his bottom lip begin to tremble, “I'm really sorry, buddy,” 

“It’s OK, Kev,” 

“No! It isn’t!” Kevin exclaims, suddenly sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of his bed to face him. 

Arnold frowns at him, “I don’t mind, honestly. We’re here now, aren’t we? You’re my best friend. It’s fine,” 

Kevin nods and stares down at his hands, running his nail over the inflamed skin on his thumb. 

“I’ve never had a best friend before,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What about Noah and-”

Kevin shakes his head, “I’ve never had a best friend that I actually want to be best friends with,” 

Arnold is silent for a moment. 

“I’ve never had a best friend that actually wants to be best friends with me,”

“Now you do,” Kevin says, before adding, “if you...if you even want to be friends with me. I don’t really - I don’t really know why you’d want to-“

“You don’t need to carry the weight of the District on your shoulders, Kev. We all messed up,” 

Kevin’s eyes flicker up to Arnold, who is now sat facing him. 

“Something else on your mind, buddy?” Arnold asks. 

For the first time, Kevin considers telling him what happened. He considers telling him that he’d been so horribly violated and that it still hurts,  _ everything  _ still hurts. It had been almost two months, but walking still hurts, sitting down still hurts and that he’s  _ terrified  _ because even once the physical pain goes, that mental pain won’t. He’ll still have nightmares. He’ll still have panic attacks. He’ll still never be able to forgive himself for going to that stupid camp in the first place. 

“Kev?” 

“The, um, the General he - he’s the reason I can’t walk properly right now,” 

A look of understanding floods over Arnold’s shocked face and Kevin is suddenly worried that he’s going to faint.

“He took my Book of Mormon and he...he...it really hurts, Arnold,” Kevin sobs into his hands, “so  _ fucking  _ much. I want it to stop, but it won’t stop. The pain, it won’t fucking stop,” 

The mattress dips next to him and he feels Arnold’s finger brush over his shoulder, as though he isn’t sure whether he should touch or not. Kevin isn’t sure. 

“What can I do?” Arnold asks, and Kevin thinks that he can hear a note of desperation in his voice, “What can I do to help?” 

“Travel back in time and stop me from ever going to the General’s camp in the first place?”

“I think I’ve watched enough Doctor Who to understand the fundamentals of time travel,” 

Kevin laughs and drops his head to Arnold’s shoulder. There’s nothing either of them can do, but listening to Arnold waffle on about the space-time continuum is equivalent to taking an antidepressant. 

* * *

Kevin swears quietly under breath when he picks up a crate of new copies of the Book of Arnold, the edge digging into the now constantly inflamed patch of skin on his thumb. He grunts with effort as he shifts his hold of it, balancing it rather precariously on his forearms.    
  
Elder Neely watches him with what can only be described as amusement.    
  
“Why are you carrying it like that? You’re making it 10 times more difficult for yourself,”   
  
“It’s fine,” Kevin says off handedly, “it’s the last one, anyway,”    
  
“The last of this batch. McKinley ordered two loads,”    
  
Kevin groans, sweat pouring down his face. It’s days like today when he regrets convincing the other Elders to stay. The sun is beating down on the back of his neck mercilessly, and his shoulders are aching with the effort of having to carry so many boxes from their makeshift post office to the hut.    
  
“Great,” Kevin says, “exactly what I need,”    
  
“We gotta spread the word, Price!”   
  
Kevin mutters something non-committal under his breath and pushes the door of the mission hut open with his hip. When he’s dropped the box to the floor, he makes his way out of the back door, blowing on his thumb to try and stop it from stinging so much.    
  
“Good afternoon, Elder Price,”    
  
Kevin stumbles slightly when he sees Elder McKinley walking over to him, his shirt is fully unbuttoned and he isn't wearing temple garments. Arnold had relaxed the rules on their uniforms, but Kevin is the only person who still wears his full uniform and he isn't entirely sure why.    
  
He feels his face burn bright red at the sight and forces himself to keep his eyes focused on McKinley’s eyes which have no business being so damn blue.    
  
“You’re shirtless,” Kevin says intelligently, "Or, um, almost,"   
  
McKinley looks down at his chest and then back up at Kevin, “it’s hot as heck,”    
  
Somehow, Kevin blushes more because there really is nothing quite as cute as the way that McKinley still refuses to curse.    
  
“What’s wrong with your thumb?” McKinley asks.    
  
“Oh, uh, nothing,” Kevin says, hiding his hand behind his back.    
  
McKinley holds his hand out in front of him, “Let me see,”    
  
Kevin sighs and holds his hand out towards him. McKinley grabs him by the wrist - and no, his heart did _not_ skip a beat - and pulls him forward slightly. As gently as anything, McKinley runs his finger over the skin, quickly apologising when Kevin flinches.    
  
“Is it a reaction to something?”    
  
“Must be,” Kevin lies - he tries not to think about how lying has suddenly become second nature to him.    
  
“Mhm,” McKinley says through pursed lips, “Well, I have a cream for it. Come on,”    
  
“Huh?” Kevin asks when McKinley pulls him towards the hut, “what are you - what are you doing?”    
  
“Helping you,” McKinley says.    
  
He is strangely excited to follow McKinley up to his bedroom, and definitely doesn’t watch him when he bends over to get something out of the basket under his bed.    
  
“Aloe Vera!” McKinley exclaims, turning around to face Kevin and waving a pot around.    
  
“Oh,” Kevin says, “thank-you?”    
  
Connor rolls his eyes and walks around the bed to him, scooping some of the gel-like substance onto his fingers. Gently, he rubs it into Kevin’s thumb, humming quietly under his breath. Kevin has feeling that McKinley knows exactly what he is doing to him, but can’t find it in himself to put a stop to it.    
  
“Feel better?” McKinley asks, smiling down at him.    
  
“You’re taller than me,” Kevin says.    
  
“Um...yes. I am,”    
  
“Sorry. I just...I never noticed,”    
  
McKinley giggles -  _ giggles! _ \- and pats Kevin on the shoulder, “You’re very strange sometimes, Elder Price,”    
  
“Yeah, I know,”    
  
“I don’t mind,” McKinley shrugs, then he winks and leaves the room.    
  
Kevin has to sit down for a minute.    


* * *

Kevin lasts another six months. It’s all too much; the General is always around, _McKinley_ is always around, Arnold and Nabulungi are just so  _ happy  _ and he knows that he can never be happy in the same way that they are.

“I need to leave,” Kevin says, bursting into McKinley’s office uninvited, “I need to go home,” 

“Elder Price-”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care how well we’re doing or how staying here was my idea in the first place. I don’t give a  _ fuck  _ about any of that, I need to leave,” 

McKinley slowly stands up from his chair and walks around to the front of his desk, leaning back on it with his hands, “Talk to me, Elder,”

“I don’t want to-”

“Elder Price,  _ please.  _ I can’t just send you home without reason. I need to know,” 

Kevin stares at his district leader, who has always looked so much older than the rest of them and it suddenly occurs to him that it was probably because he was carrying so much more than the rest of them. And he can’t give him something else to carry.

“I - I  _ can’t _ ,” Kevin whispers, his voice cracking, “I can’t tell you,”

McKinley frowns at him, “You can tell me anything,” 

“It’s not that easy,” 

“Elder-”

“The General shoved a book up my ass and I can’t deal with being here, alright?” Kevin snaps. He gasps and claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with fear as he stares at McKinley. 

McKinley’s hands slip off his desk and he falls down onto an elbow. Kevin clenches his jaw and looks away from him, scratching his thumb. 

“Stop that,” McKinley says quietly, reaching out and nudging Kevin’s index finger away with his own, “it’s not helping,” 

“It’s distracting,” 

“It’s unhealthy,” 

Kevin’s eyes flicker up to meet McKinleys that are full of concern. 

“I made you uncomfortable on the day of Nabulungi’s play, didn’t I?” he asks quietly, “when I was tucking your shirt in,” 

“You couldn’t - you couldn’t have known,” Kevin whispers, vaguely aware of the fact that their fingers are still entwined. 

“Can I hug you?” McKinley asks before blushing, “Sorry. You just - you look like you need a hug,” 

Kevin nods and takes half a step towards McKinley, grateful when he takes the lead; he places a hand on the back of Kevin’s head and gently pushes it to the crook of his neck, his other arm snaking around his back. Kevin closes his eyes and presses his lips together as he puts his arms around McKinley, doing his best to not cry. Though this very quickly becomes a lost cause when McKinley rests his chin on top of Kevin’s head. 

“ _ Shh, Shh,”  _ McKinley soothes, slowly stroking the back of his head, “you’re OK, Elder Price, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” 

He tightens his grip around McKinley’s middle and, if possible, he moves even closer to him. The only sounds is that of Kevin quietly crying and McKinley soothing him with the gentle whispers off,  _ it’s OK, Elder Price, he can’t hurt you anymore. He’ll never hurt you again, I promise.  _

“Sorry,” Kevin whispers, pulling away. He isn’t sure if they had hugged for too long or not, “Sorry. I shouldn’t - I shouldn’t be like this,” 

McKinely shakes his head, and Kevin tries not to focus on the fact that they’re still holding on to each other. 

“It’s OK. You’re allowed to cry,” 

Kevin nods and eventually moves from McKinely’s grip, “Thank-you,” 

Mckinley smiles, but it might be the saddest thing that Kevin has ever seen in his life. 

“I’ll leave you to call your parents,” 

* * *

Arnold, Nabulungi and McKinley offer to walk Kevin to the bus stop on his final day in Uganda. He doesn’t really want to say yes, but he also doesn’t want to say no. He doesn’t know what he wants to say.    
  
The entire time, Arnold grips onto Kevin’s arm, sobbing and Kevin finds himself holding back tears. It’s a great contrast to the way he felt about his mission companion the first time they met. 

“A leaving present, Elder,” McKinley says quietly when they reach the bus stop, holding something out to him. 

Kevin frowns down at McKinley’s hand, “Is that...is that a tub of Aloe Vera?”

McKinley offers him a tiny smile, “I thought you might like it,” 

It is with a strangely tight throat that Kevin takes the tub off him, carefully dropping it into his pocket. 

“Thank-you, Elder McKinley,”    
  
When they hear the bus coming in the distance, Kevin glances over at McKinley, and then back over at Arnold and Nabulungi, both of whom are too distracted by Arnold sobbing to notice much else.    
  
“Well, Elder Price, it’s been lovely to meet-“    
  
Kevin takes a step towards McKinley, who gives him a look that he has become very accustomed to being on the receiving end of. One that quite plainly says - _I don’t know what you’re about to do, Elder Price, but you probably shouldn’t._   
  
He leans forward and places a very soft, barely there kiss onto McKinley’s cheek before pulling away as quick as he had gone in. McKinley stands there, his mouth hanging open slightly and all Kevin can think is that he wishes that he’d have had the balls to kiss his lips, instead.    
  
“Bye, Elder McKinley. It’s been great to get to know you,”

Once Kevin is seated on the bus and Kitguli is left in the dust, he decides that there is a part of him that should be left in the dust, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I made McKinley tall for the first time in my life  
> (Thank-you for reading!!!)


	3. Aches and Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Kevin Price is living a lie. He just isn’t going to admit that.**

**1 Year Later**

Kevin is not entirely sure how he made the jump from ‘ _The Best Mormon to Ever Mormon_ ’ to ‘ _The Most Atheist to ever Atheist_ ’ and then right back over to ‘ _The Best Mormon to ever Mormon_ ’, but he thinks that it might have actually given him whiplash; he feels it in his neck and shoulders, flowing all the way down his back. Cait thinks that he should go for a massage, Kevin can’t think of anything worse than being half naked in a dark room with someone (not that he can tell her _why,_ of course). 

They are sitting under the shade of a tree on the BYU campus. She, an English Major, is in her final year. He, a business major, is in his first year and is already counting down the days to when he can leave. 

“How is Clara?” Cait asks casually. 

“Fine,” Kevin replies stiffly, “She is...fine,” 

Clara, his first ever girlfriend, has somehow continued to be his girlfriend. He doesn’t know why he ever thought that they would just stop being together whilst he was on his mission. It wasn’t as though he had broken up with her before he left for Uganda. 

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Uh...last week, why?” 

Cait scoffs and shakes her head, “Please just break up with her, Kev,” 

“Why would I do that?”

“You barely see her!” 

“And? It’s not like we’re _married_ ,” 

“You know she’ll be expecting that soon,” 

Kevin stares at her, “We’re only 20,” 

Cait rolls her eyes, “When has that ever stopped Mormons? I’m being serious, Kevin, unless you want to marry her, break up with her,” 

“I don’t remember asking for relationship advice,” 

“You’re in desperate need of it though,” 

Luckily, Kevin was saved from what would no doubt be an awkward conversation by having to go to class. It would most likely be a boring class, because they always were, but there wasn’t much he would be able to do about it. 

He takes his sweet time walking to Stats, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and kicking a discarded water bottle as he goes. He is beginning to think that it had been wishful thinking to think he would automatically turn back to the way he was before Uganda. He can act that way, sure, he can be the perfect Mormon on the outside but on the inside? That is a whole different story - a story he isn’t even going to focus on. Because he _can’t._

“You’re late,” the Professor scolds when Kevin walks through the door, “Again,” 

“Sorry,” Kevin mutters, dropping to his usual seat and taking his laptop out of his bag, “I woke up late,” 

Waking up late is something that is difficult to do when you don’t actually sleep, but the Professor doesn’t need to know that. No one needs to know that. 

As the Professor drones on about things that Kevin couldn’t care less about if he tried, he opens Facebook on his laptop and aimlessly scrolls through it. 

**Arnold Cunningham has updated his profile picture.**

Kevin clicks on it and tears spring to his eyes at once. It is a picture of the District 9 Elder’s from their first week outside of the Church. Kevin remembers it like it was yesterday: Elder Schrader had ran into the mission hut with a massive smile on his face, waving something around in his hand. 

_“Look at what my brother sent!” he announced excitedly, “A camera!”_

_“Family picture!” Arnold exclaimed, jumping up and pulling Kevin with him, “Come on! Come on!”_

_“Do we really need a picture?” Kevin muttered, letting Arnold drag him outside, “We all know what each other looks like,”_

_“Memories, Kevin! Don’t you want to remember this forever?”_

_“Not really,” Kevin muttered, he was still walking with a limp after ‘falling over’ when he had tried to run away. No one had questioned him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that._

_The other Elders were being ordered about by Elder McKinley, shuffling from left the right as he tried to get them into some form of order._

_“Mission companions together, please,” he said, “Elder Church stop badgering Elder Poptarts and stand next to Elder Davis - no! That did not mean start badgering Elder Davis! Put your arm around him like a normal person._ Honestly, _I don’t know why I try,”_

_Kevin sniggered slightly as he watched McKinley try to stop Elder Church from using Elder Davis’ head as an armrest. It was almost like a guilty pleasure, watching McKinley try his very best to control the Elders of District 9._

_“C’mon, buddy!” Arnold said, pulling on his arm, “C’mon! Why are you just stood there?”_

_“Ouch!” Kevin exclaimed, falling heavily onto his leg and wincing as fresh pain shot through his body, “Watch it!”_

_“Sorry! Sorry!” Arnold exclaimed, “I forgot about your leg. It must have been a really bad fall if it hurts so much,”_

_When Kevin got in line with Arnold - right in the middle - McKinley popped up at his shoulder, smoothing his hair into place. Kevin became transfixed as he watched him, half wishing that he could be running his fingers through his hair instead._

_“Are you OK, Elder Price? You’re looking a bit pale,” Elder McKinley said._

_“Fine,” Kevin muttered, “It’s just - it’s my leg,”_

_“Oh, no,” Elder McKinley said, and he looked genuinely worried, “Here, let me help,”_

_“What are you doing?” Kevin asked, suddenly panicked at the thought of someone touching him._

_“Relax, it’s OK,” McKinley said quietly, gently putting his arm around Kevin’s waist, “lean on me. Take the weight off your leg,”_

_Kevin did, resting his hip against McKinley’s and putting his arm around his waist. He gripped onto the other Elders shirt tightly, hands shaking slightly. He felt McKinley’s eyes on him and tried not to pay too much attention._

_“I don’t know what's happened to you, Elder Price, but you’re going to be OK. I promise,”_

_He is saved from having to reply by Elder Zelder finally working out how to put the timer on the camera._

_“Everyone smile!” McKinley said cheerily, “And try not to blink,”_

_It took them five tries before they finally had a picture where Arnold wasn’t blinking._

Kevin blinks back tears as he stares at the picture - at him and McKinley in particular. Even from the distance at which the picture was taken, Kevin can see how bright McKinley's eyes are shining and how overly-freckled he was. His eyes travel from McKinley to himself, not recognising the person in the picture; his feet are turned in at an awkward angle because for a while, it was the only way he could stand without being in too much pain. And the way he is leaning into McKinley is borderline embarrassing, their heads are almost touching and there is no space between the two of them. He can’t imagine standing like that with another man now. 

He scrolls down to the comments and bites down on his lip to stop himself from crying. 

**James Church: All I remember from this day is McKinley shouting at me.**

**Chris Thomas: All I remember from the mission is him shouting at you.**

**Ben Schrader: That’s not true, he used to do that thing where he talked really quietly when you’d really fucked up**

**Connor McKinley: It’s nice to know that you all miss me.**

Kevin stares at the name ‘ _Connor McKinley’_ his mouse hovering over it. The district leader is the only one of the districts 9 Elder’s who he has completely cut off ties with; he still sees Arnold every other day and occasionally sees Chris when he’s out and about in Provo, but he’s never seen McKiney. He’s never asked Chris about him, and Chris has never told him. 

Would it be so wrong to see how his old District Leader was doing? 

Just as this thought enters his head, his phone lights up with a notification off Clara, asking if he will meet her for lunch. Kevin settles with leaving a comment.

**Kevin Price: You don’t really realise how white we all are until you see us together, do you?**

He closes Facebook and tries not to act like he can still feel McKinley’s arms around him. 

* * *

“Hey, Kev, I’ve got something for you!” 

Kevin looks up from his laptop and at Cait, “I thought the point of studying in the library was that we didn't have to talk?”

“Check your email,” 

**From:** [ **SerenitySalonDaySpa@serenitysalon.net** ](mailto:SerenitySalonDaySpa@serenitysalon.net)

**To:** [ **KevinPrice@BYU.Net** ](mailto:KevinPrice@BYU.Net)

**Subject Line: Confirmation of Appointment**

“What have you done?” he asks. 

“A favour,” Cait says promptly, “Go and get your back fixed,” 

“I don’t like being touched,” 

“And you still think you should be in a relationship?” 

Kevin glares, “Neither my bad back nor my relationship is any of business!” 

“You walk like an old man sometimes,”

“So?”

“You’re twenty, not eighty,” 

Kevin glares, “I’m not going,” 

“Yes, you are,” 

“No, I’m not,” 

“Don’t think I won’t drag you there myself,”

Kevin knew better than to try and argue with her. 

* * *

“You look awkward,” the masseur helpfully observes. 

“I think the fact that you stroke people for a living is the weirdest thing in the world, honestly,” Kevin says. 

The masseur laughs, “Surprisingly, you’re not the first to say that to me. Take a seat, dude,” 

As the masseur closes the door, Kevin glances over at it to make sure that it was easy to open just in case he needed to get away at a moments notice. 

“So, what's the issue?” 

Kevin glances up at him, wondering if he should make a casual, “ _Hahaha, which issue do you want to know about?”_ joke. Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders and mutters something about back pain. 

“Do you go to the gym?” 

Kevin nods, “Yeah, I go three times a week. I have a personal trainer,” 

“Do you warm up before?”

“Always,” 

The masseur frowns, “Stretch?” 

“Every morning,” Kevin says. 

“Have you seen a doctor about your back pain?” 

“I went to the health centre at college,” Kevin tells him, “the nurse just said that it’s just normal aches and pains,” 

“Right...” the masseur says slowly, looking at Kevin in a way that makes him feel like he is under a microscope, “OK, I’m going to ask you something and you don’t have to tell me how or why or when, I just need to know....”

Kevin shifts uncomfortably but stays silent. 

“How long have you had this pain?” 

“Um...about a year,”

“Like I said, you don’t have to tell me anything, I just need to hear a yes or no,” the masseuse says, and Kevin notes a change in his tone, “Did something happen to you a year ago? Something traumatic?” 

Kevin’s neck snaps up to face him, almost tumbling off the tiny stool that he is sat on. 

“What?”

“Trauma can manifest itself physically. It has to go somewhere, and sometimes it goes to our bodies,” he explains, “did something happen?”

“Yes,” Kevin whispers, “Something - something happened,” 

“OK,” the masseuse says, “You don’t have to tell me, I just needed to know. If there’s anything that I do that makes you uncomfortable throughout your treatment, just let me know. You’re in complete control here, dude,” 

Kevin clenches his jaw and nods, not trusting himself to speak. 

The masseuse offers him a small smile and stands up, “I’ll wait outside whilst you get changed. Get on the bed and cover yourself with the blanket. I’ll knock to get back in,” 

_You’re in complete control. You’re in complete control. You’re in complete control._

Hands shaking slightly, Kevin shimmies out of his clothes and awkwardly clambers onto the bed, checking and rechecking that his butt he covered. Just as he goes to drop his head into the head hole, he freezes and realises exactly what he is doing; he’s half naked, in a dark room with a _man_ who has easy access to his-

“Can I come in, Kevin?”

Kevin jumps at the sound of the masseurs voice and squeezes his eyes shut. _You’re in complete control. You’re in complete control._

“Yeah!” Kevin shouts back, “I’m ready,” 

“Great! Just relax and-”

“Don’t touch my butt,” Kevin blurts before he can stop himself, “Or like the - the top of my legs. Sorry, I should have - I should have said,” 

He feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Anywhere else you don’t like being touched?”

Kevin shakes his head and puts his face into the head hole, “No. Everything - everything else is fine,” 

His initial reaction to the hands on his back was to fight it, to run as far away as was humanly possible, but then he felt himself relax. He allows his eyes to flutter shut and _maybe_ he feels himself arching up into the touch, and _maybe_ he needs to accept that the touch of a man is better than the touch of a woman and _maybe_ he’s imagining a certain district leader. 

And he _definitely_ needs to stop thinking about all that. 

The hour is over quickly. _Too_ quickly. 

“You feeling alright, Kevin?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m - fine,” Kevin says, feeling rather dizzy, “Thank-you,” 

“No problem, dude.” 

When Kevin is walking home, his back feels brand new, and he’s in next to no pain but as he thinks about Clara and McKinley and the Church, it isn’t worth it. 

* * *

Kevin sits in an over-priced restaurant, scratching at his thumb beneath the table as his girlfriend excitedly talks about their summer plans to her parents. Apparently they’re going on a religious retreat for young couples, Kevin doesn’t remember ever agreeing to it but decides not to fight back against it. 

“...it’s going to be really fun, isn’t it, Kevvy?” she says cheerfully and putting her hand over his. 

That nickname makes him wants to kill himself and he has to stop himself from snapping at her. 

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth, though he doubts that Clara or her parents will notice, “Yeah. Really fun,” 

At some point, Clara and her mom go to the bathroom, leaving Kevin with her father. He smiles awkwardly at him and starts shovelling soup into his mouth in an attempt to mask the awkwardness. 

“You’ve been together a while, yes?” her father says. 

Kevin’s eyes flicker up to meet his, “Um, yes,” 

He nods and smiles at him as though they are sharing an inside joke. Before Kevin can ask what's going on, he reaches into his pocket and slides a small box over to him. 

Kevin doesn’t say anything, he just slips the box into his pocket, feeling as though someone has been repeatedly punching him the stomach

Once he is back home and has finished having his nightly panic attack, his phone lights up with a Facebook notification: 

**Connor McKinley: Sorry if this is weird, but I see you’re in BYU, I’m back in Provo, wanna catch up?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank-you for reading!


	4. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Kevin Price embraces a part of himself that he should have done a long time ago.**

Kevin’s shoulder muscles burn slightly when he drops down to one knee in front of Clara, spouting some bullshit about how she is the love of his life and how he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, if she’ll have him. Clara cries and kisses him, saying, ‘ _Yes! Yes! Yes!’_ against his lips. He smiles and slips the ring onto her finger. 

He posts a picture on Facebook the next day because _that’s what you’re meant to do, Kevin!_

_Proposed to my best friend today!_ Is what he captions the picture he uploads. He obsessively refreshes his notifications, desperate for the validation of family members and classmates in the hopes that it'll convince him he's done the right thing. 

**Arnold Cunningham: ?!?????!?!!!!!!?????!!!!???**

**Zachary Zelder: I didn’t even know this was a thing but congrats dude!**

**Chris Thomas: @** **James Church** **when are you proposing to me?**

**Cait Price: What??? Call me??? Kevin!!!!**

**Scott Price: Congratulations son! Your mother and I are very happy for you!**

**Jack Price: Congrats!**

**Brandon Price: Wow.**

**Connor McKinley: Wow, indeed.**

He stares at McKinley’s name. He still hasn’t replied to his message, because he doesn’t know _how._ He doesn’t know what he’s meant to say. He knows what he _wants_ to say, but he doesn’t know if he can. If he _should._

Hands shaking, he opens the message and types out a response: 

**Hey, I’m free this weekend if you wanna meet up somewhere?**

“No,” Kevin mutters, deleting the message, “No. You can’t. No,” 

He is saved having to torture himself by staring down at the message by Arnold ringing him. 

“I don’t want to be your best man,” 

“What?” Kevin asks, slightly hurt. He hasn’t really thought about that part of the wedding, but had assumed that Arnold would have jumped at the opportunity, “Why?”

Arnold sighs down the phone, “Because I know you, Kevin, and you ‘ _marrying your best friend_ ’ is a complete and utter lie and you know that. If you were marrying your best friend, you’d be marrying me and there’s no ring on my finger!” 

Kevin closes his eyes and sinks down into his bed, thankful that his roommate is in class, “I don’t - I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” 

“No, I don’t,” Kevin snaps. 

“You need to call the engagement off, pal,” Arnold says. 

“No, I don’t,” Kevin repeats, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Arnold,”

Arnold sighs, “Fine. Whatever,” 

“McKinley messaged me,” Kevin says before he can stop himself, “and I - I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about _him._ I keep on just opening the message and staring at it.” 

“I think you have a crush,” 

“Don’t be stupid.” Kevin says, “I just - I haven’t seen him for a while. And I’m not - I’m not even gay,”

“You need to think long and hard about this engagemnt business, pal,” 

“I have, and I want to do it. I want to get married,” 

Kevin is thankful that his roommate always comes home late on a Thursday. It means he can cry himself to sleep in peace. 

* * *

When Brandon had text Kevin asking him if he could visit, he had assumed that it was because of his engagement. Though as he watches his brother pace up and down his dorm room, Kevin is starting to think that it might be something else. 

“Bran,” Kevin says, “Sit down. You’re making me dizzy,” 

“I need to tell you something,” he says, sitting down at Kevin’s desk, “Please don’t be mad,” 

Kevin shakes his head, “Course not, bud. What is it?” 

Brandon opens his mouth and then closes it again, his eyes flickering over to the door. 

“Are you worried about my roommate coming in?” Kevin asks, “He's gone visiting family all week," 

“I mean, you probably - it’s probably something you already know,” Brandon says, not quite meeting his eyes, “so, I don’t know if you’ll be shocked but I need to tell you because it’s been eating me up inside all week and, I - uh...I’m gay. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m gay,” 

Brandon was right; it isn’t a shock, it just seems like an exceptionally cruel thing to do when he himself is struggling to keep his head above the water. Not that that is something that Brandon should know, of course. Kevin sighs and runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words to say. And he finds them, eventually. Or, he finds _one_. 

“Okay,” 

“Pardon?” 

“Okay,” Kevin repeats. 

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Brandon asks,”’ _okay’_. You’re worse than mom and dad! They barely said a thing!” 

“What do you want me to say?” Kevin snaps. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe - ‘ _I still love you, bud’_ or _‘I’ll support you through everything,’_ ” Brandon says, “Gosh, Kev, I thought _you_ of all people would understand!” 

Kevin jerks his head back, “What’s that meant to mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snaps, “Whatever. I’m going home. Just because _you_ insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!” 

Before Kevin can even try and make things better - even though he really doesn’t know how - Brandon has stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Groaning, Kevin flops onto his bed and covers his face with his pillow, screaming into it until his voice is hoarse. 

Pain shoots up his back, curling around his shoulders and neck as white hot tears drip down his cheeks. His heart beats heavily against this chest as his brain helpfully replays Brandon’s words over and over again. 

_Just because you insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!_

_Just because you insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!_

_Just because you insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!_

_Just because you insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!_

_Just because you insist on living in the closet doesn’t mean I have to!_

“No, no, no, _no_ ,” Kevin mutters to himself, his index finger going straight for his thumb, “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. _Stop it._ ”

He scratches until the skin tears and his bed sheets are dotted with blood. He watches as the blood drips down his hand, wondering why the sight doesn’t scare him. He shouldn’t be doing this to himself. He should _care._

If this unhealthy habit doesn’t bother him, why should seeing McKinley again? Neither are good for him, neither are gonna help him live the life he is expected to, but why should he care? He snatches his phone from the bed and messages McKinley back. Unsurprisingly, he gets a message back almost immediately. 

**Kevin Price: Hey, I’m free this weekend if you wanna meet up somewhere?**

**Connor McKinley: So you do know how to reply messages**

**Kevin Price: Some of us are busy.**

**Connor McKinley: Oh yeah, I forgot. There’s going to be a Mrs Kevin Price soon, isn’t there?**

**Kevin Price: Do you wanna meet up or not?**

**Connor McKinley: Come to my apartment if you want. My roommate is away all weekend. She's on some weirdass sex retreat**

**Kevin Price: What?**

**Connor McKinley: My rommate is on a sex retreat**

**Connor McKinley: Something to do with embracing 'sexual freedom'**

**Connor McKinley: Personally, Grindr works well for me and I don't have to pay $1000 dollars for it**

**Kevin Price: Send me the address and I’ll be there**

He decides to act like there is nothing strange about how excited he is to be alone with Connor McKinley. 

* * *

There is nothing particularly odd or homosexual about the way that Kevin starts getting ready three hours early to meet Connor, in the same way that there is nothing particularly odd or homosexual about the way that he changes his outfit three times. The reason he cares so much is because he was brought up to care about his appearance and how he presents himself to the world. It has nothing to do with the fact that he desperately wants Connor to find him attractive.

“You going out?” his roommate, Dean, asks from where he is lay in bed, scrolling through his phone. “I thought Clara went home for the weekend?”

“She did,” Kevin replies, picking his hair wax up and scooping some onto his hands. 

“...who are you trying to look nice for then?” 

Kevin rolls his eyes, “Just because you only shower once a week doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I’m going to meet one of the guys from my mission, that’s all,”

“Ah, the elusive Uganda mission,” Dean sniggers, “the one you can never talk about,” 

“I told you, it was boring. Nothing happened. That’s why I came home early. There wasn’t anything to achieve there,”

“I believe you,” Dean says in a tone that suggests he definitely doesn’t.

“I’m going,” Kevin says, brushing one last strand of hair into place, “I have my key, you don’t have to wait up,” 

“I wasn’t going to,”

When Kevin texts Connor to tell him that he’s on his way, he puts his phone of silent and shoves it into his pocket. For some reason, the thought of Connor messaging him back terrifies him, and he’s too scared to work out exactly why. The taxi pulls up outside of Connors apartment block all too soon, and he punches the apartment number into the buzzer with shaking hands. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey. It's, uh, it's Kevin. Kevin Price,"

Kevin groans quietly and shuts his eyes. _Why_ did he feel the need to say his full name, as though Connor wouldn't know it was him. 

Connor giggles, and it is a sound that Kevin did not realise he missed hearing, “Come up! The front doors open,”

“Great,” Kevin mutters weakly. 

His legs feel like lead as he walks up to the second floor, and he stands outside the apartment door for five minutes, his hand outstretched to the door handle. Just as he is beginning to think that he really should just go home, the door opens.

“I said it was open,” 

Kevin opens his mouth and then closes it again, rendered speechless by the sight before him; clearly life away from the Church has done Connor the world of good: his eyes were brighter behind a pair of glasses (and maybe Kevin has a thing for _glasses_ now) and his hair, which had grown slightly longer, fell in gentle waves over his forehead. 

“Your hair is wavy,” Kevin says. 

Connor frowns at him, “Um...yes. It is. It tends to do that,” 

Kevin nods, “Yeah. It looks - I like it. It looks good. Uh, suits you,” 

“Um, thank-you,” Connor says, “Come in,”

Kevin does _not_ look at his ass when he follows him inside and is _not_ thinking about how well his jeans compliment him. Connor tells him to sit down with an airy wave of his hand and disappears into the kitchen. He comes back seconds later with a platter of food and a two bottles of beer.

“You don’t drink, do you?” Connor says, looking down at the beer in his hand as though he’s never seen it before. 

“I’m twenty,” 

“I forget I’m older than you,” Connor mutters, “I mean, you can drink it if you want, I’m not gonna-“

“I don’t think I’d drink anyway,” Kevin says, “Given the whole Mormon thing,” 

Connor raises his eyebrows, “So you’re still part of the Church?” 

Kevin looks away from him, “I don’t...I don’t know,” 

“Yeah. Me neither,”

It gets easier to talk after this, and Kevin hangs onto Connor’s every word as he fills him in on what’s he’s missed; district 9 closed six months after he left (which Kevin knew) and since then, he’s been working odd jobs - bar work, restaurant work, office temp jobs to try and work out what it is he wants to do. He’s taking classes at the community college to be a pre-school teacher and working at a gay bar in the meantime. 

"I think you'll be a great teacher," Kevin says. 

Connor grins, "I think I got more than enough prep after dealing with District 9. Namely your best friend," 

"Does it surprise you to know that he's still a nightmare?" Kevin asks, "I had to talk him out of spending $250 dollars on a model of the Death Star," 

Connor laughs, "I'm glad he hasn't changed," 

Kevin glances over at the pride flag hanging up on the wall, chewing on the inside of his lip. 

"So, you're fully out now?"

“It's hard to stay in the closet when you spend your nights on Grindr and have a massive pride flag in your apartment," 

Kevin clenches his jaw and looks away from him. The thought of Connor being on Grindr bothers him - and it isn't because of his ultra conservative Mormon upbringing. He doesn't want to think about how many people Connor has brought home, and how none of them were _him._

“How did your parents take it?” Kevin asks, desperate to never have to hear Connor talk about Grindr again. 

“They didn't,” Connor says bluntly, “they kicked me out,” 

“Oh,” Kevin says softly, wondering if it would have been better to have a conversation about Grindr, “Oh, I’m sorry.

Connor shrugs and stretches himself out on the sofa, “it was always gonna happen,” 

“That doesn’t make it right,” 

“No.” Connor agrees, “but it’s what’s happened. I’ll be fine,” 

"Can I ask you something?" 

Connor frowns at him, "Sure?"

"Are the glasses real? Or are they - are they some fashion thing?"

Connor snorts, “They’re real. I can’t see a thing without them,” 

“But in Uganda-”

“I ran out of contact lenses and was worried that you wouldn’t find me attractive if I wore glasses,” 

Kevin feels his face burn bright red, “Oh. Um, well, I - I like them. They suit you,” 

“Not that it matters, anyway,” Connor says, “There’s going to be a Mrs Kevin Price, I see. She’s pretty,” 

Kevin looks down at his hands, “Yeah. I guess she is.” 

“Looking forward to the wedding?” 

“Um, yeah. She wants to get married in the temple in Salt Lake,” 

“What do _you_ want?” 

_You_ , Kevin thinks. 

Instead, he just shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

“Suppose we’re a bit young to know what we want, aren’t we?” Connor says, and Kevin knows that he’s being passive aggressive, but he decides to ignore him. “You have a very good taste in engagement rings, by the way. It’s gorgeous. Must have been expensive,” 

Kevin shrugs, “I don’t know,” 

“How do you not know how much it cost? Did you not check the price before you bought it?” Connor asks with a laugh, "I mean, I always knew your parents were rich but I didn't think they were _that_ rich," 

“I didn’t buy it,” Kevin says, “her dad gave it me,” 

“Oh,” Connor says, “that’s sweet, did he give it to you when you asked for his blessing?” 

“I didn’t ask for his blessing,” 

Connor frowns, “I don’t understand,” 

“He just gave me the ring when we were at dinner. Getting engaged wasn’t in the plan,” 

“Oh,” Connor says softly, “Right,” 

“It was always going to happen though,” Kevin says, and he thinks he might be trying to convince himself that he isn’t ruining his life, “We’ve been together since we were 16. It makes sense,”

Connor doesn’t say anything, so neither does Kevin. They sit in a comfortable silence for a while. They occasionally make eye contact, but it isn’t awkward. Kevin wonders if Connor feels the same way.

“Connor?”  
  
“Mhmm?”  
  
“How did you know you were gay?”  
  
“Um...I got dared to kiss a boy once and it sort of snowballed from there,”  
  
Kevin nods and stares down at his hands, picking at the skin around his nails, “Want to play truth or dare?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Do you want to play truth or dare?”  
  
Connor props himself up on his elbow, “It’s only the two of us. It’ll be a bit boring, don’t you think?”  
  
“No,” Kevin shrugs, “what else are we going to do?”  
  
Connor stares at him for a moment and then sighs, “Fine,”  
  
“Truth or Dare?”  
  
“Dare...” Connor says, a hint of hesitancy in his voice.  
  
“I dare you to kiss someone in this room,”  
  
“Kevin-“  
  
“You can’t back out now!” 

Connor sits up and gestures for him to sit next to him. Kevin does, his heart beating in a way that might have worried him if he weren’t too distracted by the fact that Connor McKinley’s face is inches from his. Kevin hesitates, for a moment, and then closes the gap between them. Connor’s lips are surprisingly soft, softer than Clara’s, even. 

It is Connor who pulls away first, and Kevin fights the urge to kiss him again. 

“Truth or dare?” Connor asks, his voice slightly strained. 

“Um, dare,” Kevin replies. 

“Kiss me,” 

Kevin doesn’t need telling twice. He grabs Connor by the t-shirt and pull him back to him again. He kisses him, _hard;_ one hand tangles in his hair whilst the other clings onto his t-shirt, as though he might try and get away. But considering how Connor’s fingers are digging into Kevin’s hips, tugging him forward, he doesn’t think he’s trying to get away. And then Kevin surprises himself - and probably Connor - by clambering onto him, his knees resting on either side of his hips.

“Kevin, you’re engag-“

“No,” Kevin mutters against Connor’s lips, “No, don’t talk to me about - not right now, please. _Please._ Give me this,”

Connor hesitates for a moment and then kisses him again, and Kevin feels it _everywhere._ It’s like electricity is coursing through him. He feels it as Connor’s lips move against his, as Connor’s hands move up his back and tangle in his hair. Kevin gasps when Connor’s hands slide down to his ass, and every fibre of his being is telling him to _get away_ , but he’s so gentle, and it’s so different and it’s _Connor_ and Kevin has wanted this - has _needed_ this, and the thrill that goes through him as Connor squeezes slightly is second to none and he doesn’t want to put a stop to it.

This time, Kevin pulls away first, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against Connor’s. 

“Thank-you,” Kevin whispers. 

Connor laughs, “So, how did you realise you were gay?” 

“I got dared to kiss a boy once and it snowballed from there,”

Connor reaches up and strokes his thumb first along Kevin’s lips and then over his cheekbone. His hand then disappears to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair. 

“I’ve always liked you, Kevin,” 

“I know,” Kevin says, “You made it painfully obvious,” 

Connor smiles, “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were always around me. And you kissed me,” 

“I kissed your cheek,” 

“A kiss is a kiss,” Connor murmurs, leaning up to kiss Kevin’s jaw, “Clara’s never kissed you like this, has she?” 

“No,” Kevin whispers, breath hitching when an arm loops around his waist and slowly lowers him to the sofa. 

Connor hums and leans down to kiss him again. He pulls away seconds later, eyes wide. 

“Shoot, Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t - sorry, I forgot about the thing with the - I’m sorry,” he scrambles to get off of him, but Kevin grabs him by the elbow and pulls him back towards him. 

“Don’t go,” Kevin says quickly, “I want to,” 

Connor looks down at him, and Kevin feels something curl in his stomach and he’s too embarrassed to look down and see what it is. Connor clearly isn’t: he looks down at Kevin’s crotch and then back up at his face, biting his lip and Kevin could just _melt_ at the sight. 

"I don't want to think about that," Kevin whispers, "Connor, _please._ "

Everything after this is sort of blur; Kevin keeps on apologising because he's pretty sure that's he doing everything wrong, but Connor just laughs quietly in his ear and tells him to _relax, it's ok. You're not doing anything wrong, love._

Kevin didn't even know that his body was capable of feeling these things. He didn't know that he could _enjoy_ someone touching him down _there_ , that he would gasp and beg for more. And he can't help but note the difference - how Connor keeps on checking to make sures he's OK, how gentle he is and how he's holding him, but he isn't holding him _down._

When they finish, Kevin all but melts into the sofa cushions, panting heavily. Connor disappears for a few seconds before coming back with a warm wash cloth. Kevin's entire body jolts when Connor gently cleans him. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Connor whispers, leaning down to kiss him and Kevin _moans_ into the kiss, because kissing make him moan now, apparently, “Are you OK?” 

Kevin nods as he sits up, picking his underwear off the floor and slipping it back on, “Yeah. Good.” 

Connor looks at him with an expression that is unreadable. And it takes Kevin a minute that it’s the exact way that he looked when the Mission President was screaming at him after Nabulungi’s play.

Kevin doesn’t know what to think. 

* * *

“Brandon, I have an issue,” 

The line crackles as Brandon yawns down the phone, “Dude, it’s after midnight and I’m working tomorrow. And I’m angry at you,”

“I kissed Connor,” 

“Oh,” 

“We had - I slept with him,” 

“ _Oh_ ,” 

“I’m gay,” 

“...yeah,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading!  
> Also, I added an extra chapter because when I looked over my planning, I realised that chapter six would have ended up being like 20+ pages which no one needs


	5. Naivety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **In which Kevin Price learns just how naive he can be**

“You got home late last night,” Dean says casually. 

“Sorry, mom. It won’t happen again,” Kevin mutters, struggling through a psychology essay and wondering why on earth he felt the need to take it in the first place. 

“I’m just saying you were late. You’re never usually that late when you’re with Clara,” 

Kevin looks over at him with a frown, “Okay, Sherlock Holmes,” 

“Who’s Connor McKinley?” 

Kevin's elbow slips off his desk, “Who?”

“Don’t play stupid,” 

“He’s just - he’s the guy I went - he was my district leader,” Kevin stutters, “We were in Uganda together, why?”

“He’s gay,” 

Kevin narrows his eyes, “I - yes, he - how the heck do you know? Are you Facebook stalking me now?”

Dean holds his hands up, “It’s alright, Kevin,” 

“What?”

“You. Whatever - whoever you are. It’s OK,” Dean repeats, “I’m not that Mormon anyway,” 

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“It’s OK if you’re gay,” Dean says, somewhat impatiently, "because I am - Kevin?"

Kevin doesn’t know what to say. He stares at his roommate with wide eyes, his heart beating uncontrollably. He’d heard all the stories about what happens to the gay kids at BYU; how the college ‘accepts’ them, but the same cannot be said for the rest of the student body. And Kevin can’t help but think that this show of unity is all a lie, and that Dean is going to tell others, that it’ll get back to Cait, and the rest of his family, and _Clara_. And when Clara finds out, she’ll break up with him, call off the engagement and it’ll all be because he’s gay, because Connor McKinley’s eyes are too damn blue. And then when Clara breaks up with him, he’d probably have to drop out of college and then what? He probably wouldn’t be able to get into another college, which would mean that he’d be single, unemployed and broke for the rest of his life and he’d probably end up dead under a- 

“Woah, woah, Kevin!” Dean exclaims, “Dude, calm down, I didn’t - I just wanted you to know it was OK!”

Kevin doesn’t remember sliding off his chair and onto the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest and sweat pouring down his face. He feels warm blood trickle down his thumb, and suddenly he’s back in Uganda, and that man has been shot, and there’s blood everywhere and the General is staring right at him and-

“Kevin? Dude, you’re scaring me. Kev? Do I need to call someone - Kevin!” 

“Can you - phone - get me - Arnold. Please - pass me my - Arnold,” Kevin gasps, “Where’s my phone? Dean, where’s my - I need - Arn. Why isn’t he - why isn’t here? Where’s Arnold?”

He feels the cool metal of his phone press into his hands, and he unlocks it with shaking fingers, jabbing at Arnold’s name in his contact list. 

“Hey, buddy!” Arnold cheerfully answers, “I was literally just about to call you, there’s a new Star Wars comic that I’m gonna tell you _alllll_ about because-”

“ _Help_ ,” Kevin cries down the phone, “Arn, please, help. I need - help me, please. Please. Please. Please. Please,” 

“Kev?” Arnold says, “What’s going on?” 

“Please help. Please, please, please. I need help,” Kevin sobs, “Arn, please. _Please_.” 

Arnold is by his side ten minutes later, holding onto him as he sobs into his shoulder. Kevin is vaguely aware of the fact that Dean is sat on the desk chair behind him and sort of awkwardly patting his shoulder in a way that isn’t as comforting as he probably thinks it is. 

“Talk to me, Kevin,” Arnold says quietly, rubbing circles into his back. 

“I’ve f-fucked up. Ruined my life. I don’t know - I _can’t_ \- no control - should’ve - stayed in Uganda or - not - I don’t - what was I meant to do? How was I meant to _know_ what to do? And I want - no I don’t - no I do - I - _Connor_ \- I want Connor.” 

Arnold’s arms tighten around him, and Kevin cries even more, clutching onto the back of his shirt. 

“‘M gay,” Kevin sobs, “I don’t wanna - I don’t wanna be gay, but I wanna be with Connor,” 

“I think in order to be one, you’re gonna have to be the other, too,” Arnold says gently, “Unless...unless you’re bi?” 

“I’ve never been attracted to girls,” Kevin sniffles. 

“That’s OK,” Arnold says, “I promise, it’s OK,” 

“Doesn’t feel like it,” 

“I know but it will one day. But you know you can’t stay with Clara, don’t you?” 

“But my parents are _so_ proud,” Kevin says, “and they’ve finally gotten over how I fucked up in Uganda and I - I _hate_ when they’re disappointed in me,” 

“Tell me what you like about Connor,” Arnold says, pulling away from him. 

“Huh?” 

“Tell me what you like about him,” Arnold says, “why do you like him?” 

Kevin slumps back against the leg of his desk, fiddling with some thread at the bottom of his sweatpants. 

“He wears glasses now,” Kevin says quietly, “and they suit him. And, uh...he doesn’t style his hair like he used to in Uganda, and it’s all wavy and looks really, really _soft._ And his eyes are really blue and he’s still got loads of freckles and he’s sarcastic and funny and clever. And when he laughs, his entire face brightens and his cheeks go red. He’s a good kisser, too. And - And he’s taller than me,” 

Arnold frowns, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

He shrugs because he can’t explain it. He can’t explain why he loves how he can just step into Connor and how he’ll let him, how he can get lost in the safety of his arms and not have to worry about anything. 

“I don’t know. I like it. I like that he’s taller than me. I understand why girls always say they want their boyfriends to be taller than them. I like Connor being taller than me. Like when we hug, I can - I can just put my head on his chest without bending down and - stop laughing!” he grumbles, hitting Arnold on the arm, “you don’t get it!” 

Arnold smiles at him, “Why do you want to let all that go, Kev?” 

“Because it’s not - it’s isn’t _normal_ ,” 

“To be fair, neither is sending a bunch of kids off to a foreign country with next to no contact with their family for two years,” Dean pipes up. 

Both Kevin and Arnold turn to stare at him. 

“Sorry. I’m very anti-mission,” he says. He blushes slightly, “Sorry. Carry on. Just - missions are dumb,” 

“He’s right,” Arnold says, “nothing makes sense about being LDS, does it? Not being able to drink, not be able to have coffee or hot drinks, this ridiculous notion that we need to get engaged as soon as possible,” 

Kevin scowls, “Stop being passive aggressive,”

“I’m just saying, you can make a choice about being Mormon. You can choose whether or not you want to drink coffee, you can choose if you want to go to church seven days a week or one day a week, but you can’t choose to be straight, Kev.” Arnold tells him, “No matter how much you want to. You’re gay, and that’s OK. You don’t need to freak out over a little kiss,”

“It wasn’t just a - we had sex,” Kevin mumbles, cheeks burning. 

“Oh.” Arnold says. 

“I’m fucked,” Kevin groans. 

“You were last night,” Dean says.

“Shut up,” Kevin mutters, “I _cheated_ on my _fiancé_ with a _man._ I should have never proposed to her. I need to - god, I’m gonna have to break up with her. How do I even - how do you break up with someone?” 

“Don’t do it today,” Arnold says, “But...this week. You’ll have to, this week,”

Kevin just wishes he felt a little guilty. 

* * *

When Connnor texts Kevin and asks to meet for coffee, Kevin texts back embarrassingly quickly and is ready even quicker. 

“Where are you going?” Dean asks. 

“To meet Connor,” 

An odd look flickers over his face, but Kevin doesn’t think twice about it. The only thing on his mind right now is Connor. 

“If I’m not back tonight, it’s because I’m with Connor,” Kevin shouts when he’s halfway out of the door. 

He finds Connor sitting outside a Starbucks, knee bouncing up and down as he stares down into his cup. 

“Hey,” Kevin says, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Not a chance,” Connor says, pushing him back. 

“What?” Kevin asks, stumbling backwards into the chair next to him. 

“I’m not being your sidepiece, Kevin. I think I deserve more than that,” 

“I don’t know what you’re-

“You are - you’re _lovely_ , okay? You know how much I like you but I’m not going to be your bit on the side. It’s me or Clara, okay?”

Kevin blinks at him, “But that’s not - it’s not that simple,” 

“It never is, Kevin! That’s life!” he snaps, “If you want to kiss me, _fine._ If you want to sleep with me, also fine. If you want to be my boyfriend, I am _more_ than happy with that! I just better be the only person calling you my boyfriend!” 

Kevin scoffs, “It’s easy for you! You’re out and-” 

“ _Easy?”_ Connor asks, “It’s _easy_ for me, is it? Yeah, it’s easy for me to be disowned by my own _fucking_ parents, to be kicked out with only ten dollars to my name. It’s _easy_ to have to rebuild my life on my own, to have had to come to terms with my sexuality on my own. It’s so very easy being me, I actually know what I’m complaining about! In fact, I should be happy to - no, I should be _honoured_ that the great Kevin Price has chosen _me_ of all people to be his dirty little secret!” 

Kevin jerks his head back, mouth hanging open. He’s never heard Connor swear before, and he doesn’t like it. 

“I’m fed up with hiding, Kevin. I’m fed up with having to pretend to be someone I’m not!” Connor snaps, “So forgive me for not wanting a boyfriend who already has a fiance. Forgive me for wanting to actually be _out_ when we’re out together!”

Kevin looks away from him, “Don’t you think I know how much I’ve fucked up?”

“Why do you think us being together is going to fix anything?” Connor asks impatiently, “You’re so naive, it’s ridiculous. It’s no wonder you ended up at the General’s camp,”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, and when they do, Kevin doesn’t know if he wants to hit Connor or run away from him. He feels as though someone has punched him in the stomach, knocked the wind right out of him. In a way, it might have been less painful for Connor to have just punched him. 

“Kevin, I didn’t - I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just angry and I - I’m sorry. I don’t think actually believe that, I swear to god I don’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that,” Connor babbles, “Why aren’t you - why aren’t you saying anything? Kev, I’m sorry.” 

“I thought you understood,” Kevin says quietly, “I thought - I thought you understood all that. I trusted you with the biggest secret of my life and-“ his voice breaks and he looks away from him, bottom lip trembling, “I thought you understood. I _trusted_ you, do you know how hard it is for me to trust people? I let you - I let you take my _virginity_ and - I thought - _god_ , you’re just - was that all a joke to you? The other night? Was I just another notch on your belt? Another guy you fucked? Do you get extra points for me because you were my first?” 

“No! Kevin it isn’t - it’s not like that! You’re so much more than that! Please don’t think of me like that,” he pleads, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m just angry and-“

“That’s not - that isn’t an excuse!” Kevin exclaims , jumping up from his seat, “So it’s my fault, is it? If I hadn’t been so _naive_ and _stupid,_ then I wouldn’t have been assaulted? I wouldn’t have all the nightmares, the panic attacks, the depression?” 

“No, no, I wasn’t - I’m not blaming you, sweetheart-“ 

“Don’t call me that,” Kevin snaps, “I’m not your sweetheart. I’m not your _anything_! You’ve made that much clear,”

“Kevin, I’m sorry, I-“ 

“Fuck off,” Kevin snarls, “Seriously, McKinley, fuck off. I don’t want anything to do with you. The only naive thing I’ve ever done is trusted you,”

He texts Arnold on the way home, hands shaking and breath strained: 

**< I never want to talk about Connor McKinley again. **

**< Apparently, I’m naive and that’s the reason theGeneral assaulted me. **

Arnold texts back immediately, and Kevin is once again reminded of how lucky he is to have a friend like him: 

**> Fuck him.**

**> Nabulungi is coming to visit soon, if that makes you feel better? **

It doesn’t, not really, but Kevin tells him that it does, anyway. And maybe that’s what he needs; a pep talk from Naba. She has never been one to beat around the bush. 

“Only a quickie today?” Dean asks, spinning around on his desk chair to face him. 

“No,” Kevin says, “Connor McKinley is a dick,” 

Dean raises his eyebrows, “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not wasting my time with someone like _him_ ,” Kevin says, throwing his jacket to his bed. 

Dean stands up and takes a step towards him. Kevin frowns slightly and is about to ask what he’s doing when he notices Dean's eyes flickering down to his lips. 

Experimentally, Kevin takes a step forward and he doesn’t step away, or ask what he’s doing. 

_Fuck it_ , Kevin thinks to himself. 

He grabs Deans face and pulls the two of them together. He’s a lot shorter than Connor, and his lips aren’t nearly as soft, but he at least won’t use the worst day of his life against him. 

“I’m gay, by the way,” Dean says as he pushes Kevin onto his bed. 

“Yeah, I figured,” Kevin mumbles. 

* * *

Kevin wakes up the next morning to Dean nuzzled into his side, his breath tickling his chest. And it is quite a change, to jump from never having slept with anyone to having slept with two different men in the space of three days. He looks down at his sleeping roommate and is suddenly gripped with fear because _what the fuck has he done_ ? This isn’t like him; throwing himself at anyone who just looks his way. And yet, he can’t help but feel good about it. Most people his age sleep around. Connor has done it, he reminds himself, Connor had practically _bragged_ about it. Why couldn’t he?   
  
“Morning,” Dean says groggily, snapping Kevin out of his thoughts.   
  
“Morning,” Kevin says, smiling despite himself when Dean leans up at kisses the underside of his jaw, “I’ve got class in 45 minutes,”   
  
Dean groans and drops his head back to Kevin’s chest, “You’re such a mood killer, Kevin.”   
  
“Sorry for wanting to graduate,” Kevin says, clambering out of bed and stretching his arms above his head, “Single beds really aren’t meant for two people,”   
  
“No,” Dean agrees, “but I don’t mind if it means I can see you stretch every morning,”   
  
Kevin feels himself blush and he hastily pulls on a pair of sweats, “Behave,”   
  
Dean snorts and collapses back into bed, one arm covering his face, “We need to talk,”   
  
“I know,” Kevin says, “but I think I need to talk to Clara first,”   
  
“I wouldn’t mind doing this though,” he gestures between the two of them.   
  
“Yeah,” Kevin smiles, “Me neither,”   
  
He gives him a quick kiss before he leaves for a shower, and his stomach twists with guilt. 

* * *

  
He sees Clara the moment he steps outside of class, and he realises that it is Wednesday, which means that they both have two hours free. He smiles at her and tries not to flinch when they kiss. If only he’d have been more bothered about the honour code.   
  
“So, I think I’ve found the perfect boutique for wedding dress shopping,” she says gleefully, “not that you can know anything about that, mister!”   
  
“We need to talk,” Kevin says, “come here,”   
  
He pulls her behind a tree and she looks up at him with raised eyebrows, “what is it?”

He stares down at her, guilty gnawing at his heart, and decides that there is no point in tiptoeing around the problem. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to get married,”   
  
She stares at him with wide eyes, “If you don’t want to rush into it, it’s fine. We can postpone and-“   
  
“I’m gay,” he blurts.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Sorry. I should never have - I’ve just strung you along and it was wrong of me and - I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” he babbles, “I tried my best to change it but I can’t and I’m so, so sorry. You can-“ he breaks off when he realises that she’s hugging him and frowns, “Is this - is this your way of suffocating me?”   
  
She giggles and pulls away, running her hands up and down his arms, “I always knew, I think. But when you proposed I guess...I don’t know, I thought that maybe you weren’t,”   
  
“I really am sorry,”   
  
She shakes her head, “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you’re comfortable with it. I want you to be happy, whether it’s with me or not,”   
  
“I’ll tell your parents-“   
  
“No, no.” she says, “don’t tell them anything. I’ll say I broke it off. Don’t force yourself to come out to anyone else,”   
  
“Thank-you,” he whispers.   
  
“I’ve gotta ask though...is there a guy?”   
  
Kevin thinks back to Connor, and to Dean, who has somehow become the most confusing part of his life and shakes his head.   
  
“No. There’s no guy,”   
  
“I hope you find him, Kevin, I really do,” 

“Yeah,” Kevin says, “Me too,” 

* * *

Kevin is wide awake at 2 in the morning when Connor texts him. Dean is sleeping soundly beside him, and everything feels a little bit wrong. 

**> You broke it off with Clara then? **

**< Yep. **

**> I really am sorry**

**> Can we try again?**

**> From the beginning? **

**< I don’t think that’s a good idea. **

“If you’re gonna be on your phone, can you at least turn the brightness down?” Dean grunts. 

“Sorry,” Kevin whispers, dropping his phone to the floor. 

He tries not to think about how much he hates the person he is becoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you for reading! This chapter made me hate Connor! And I wrote him this way!


	6. Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Kevin Price thinks that he might just be the worst person in the world**

Dean is nice, Kevin thinks, as his boyfriend half sits in his lap, kissing and sucking a long his neck. He’s funny, and smart and entertains Kevin’s philosophical conversations at three in the morning. But Kevin is also more than aware of the fact that he sees him in the same way that he saw Clara. 

He’s also not Connor McKinley, and that seems to be a bigger problem than Kevin thought it would be.

“You don’t have anywhere to be, do you?” Dean asks quietly, moving so that he’s fully sat in his lap and running his hands up and down his chest. 

“No,” Kevin says. 

Dean smirks, “That’s what I like to hear,” 

It’s never the same with Dean as it was with Connor, and Kevin never really knows what he’s doing but Dean always seems more than satisfied with his useless hip movements, so Kevin just goes along with it. He’ll lean down to kiss him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear that don’t roll off his tongue naturally. And then he’ll think back to Connor, who seemed to know exactly what to say to Kevin. 

“Hey,” Dean says, snapping his fingers in his face, “Are you paying attention?”

“What?” Kevin asks before blushing and remembering that he is literally  _ inside  _ his boyfriend, “Sorry. I zoned out for a sec,” 

“You’re the weirdest person that I’ve ever met in my life,” 

Kevin shrugs, “You’re not the first person to say that to me,” 

The good thing about being at BYU is that they technically shouldn’t even be holding hands, never mind actually having sex, so they always have to be as discreet as possible. And although he acts like he hates it, Kevin is secretly thankful for it; it means he doesn’t have to pretend to be enjoying it more than he is. He can get away with burying his face into Dean’s neck - an action that can be easily mistaken as him trying to suppress any moans of pleasure. 

And  _ God _ , if he doesn’t feel like that the worst person in the world for it. 

* * *

“You’ve been avoiding me,” 

Kevin jumps and rips his earphones out of his ears, whirling around in his seat to face Cait. 

“Why are  _ you _ in Starbucks?” Kevin asks with a frown. 

Cait rolls her eyes, “Being Mormon doesn’t mean that I can’t step foot in a Starbucks, weirdo. Although, it does mean that I can’t drink-” she leans towards his drink with narrowed eyes, “A Venti Cold Brew. Is that iced black coffee?”

Kevin blushes, “It’s the only rule I break, I swear I don’t-”

“I don’t care,” she cuts across, sitting down uninvited, “You’ve been avoiding me,” 

“I haven’t been  _ avoiding  _ you, I just haven’t been speaking to you,” 

“Same difference,” she says impatiently, “Clara called off the wedding and you didn’t even tell me? I had to hear it off Brandon who,  _ by the way,  _ is very stressed about the whole thing and I think you should do the nice thing and call your dang brother!”

Kevin looks away from her, scratching his thumb. He hasn’t spoken to anyone about breaking up with Clara. Not even Arnold, and he had been hoping to keep it that way. 

Cait sighs and grabs his wrist, “Stop doing that to yourself,”

He rips his hand out of her grip, “It’s not that easy!” He shouts louder than he had wanted to, and some tables close to them fall silent and turn to stare. He groans and drops his head into his hands. 

“Kev,” Cait says gently, putting her hand on his shoulder, “What’s going on, dude? I’ve never seen you like this,” 

“Can we - can we go to your apartment?” Kevin asks quietly, “I don’t want to talk about it here,” 

She looks slightly shocked but nods, “Yeah. Whatever you need,” 

He paces up and down her living room, wringing his hands together and desperately trying not to scratch his thumb. She sits on the sofa, as patient as anything, not pushing him to say anything. 

“Clara didn’t break up with me,” he says, dropping down to the sofa next to her, “I broke up with her,” 

“Oh,” Cait says softly. 

“Because - Because I’m gay,” 

Cait smiles at him, “I know, Kev,” 

“I - what?” 

“You’re basically the little brother I never had. I’ve always known. It’s why I was so opposed to Clara,” she explains gently, “but...thank-you for telling me. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to be able to tell me this,” 

“There’s more,” Kevin says, before he can stop himself, “There was - there was a guy. Connor. And I - I slept with him and - I really,  _ really  _ like hi - uh, I really liked him and then - and then he said this awful thing to me and I can’t look past it but uh...you know...you know my roommate?”

“Daniel,” 

“Dean,” 

Cait blinks at him, “I think I’ve been calling him Daniel all these time,”

“Well you’re going to have to remember his name. He’s my - we’re together,” 

“Together,” she repeats, “You and Dean?”

“Yeah,” 

“And this - this Connor when did you-” she breaks off in a gasp, “Oh, my gosh. It’s that - it’s that guy, isn’t it? The - Connor McKenly? That picture that Arnold put on his Facebook of your mission-”

“McKinley. But...yeah. It’s him,” Kevin says, “Why?”

Cait shrugs, “You’ve spoken about him before, that’s all,”

“No, I’ve not!”

“You literally  _ never  _ speak about your mission but when you do, you mention this McKinley,” Cait says. 

“He was my District Leader!” Kevin exclaims, “obviously he’s going to come up in conversation from time to-”

“Do you like him?”

“What?”

“You heard me,”

“I  _ liked  _ him but I don’t - not anymore,” 

“You are maybe the worst liar I’ve ever come across,” Cait says, “I think you should break up with Dean. I think you’re maybe a little bit in love with this McKinley dude,” 

“I am  _ not  _ a little bit in love with him!” 

“Okay, so you’re completely in love with him,” 

Kevin clenches his jaw and looks away from her, “It doesn’t matter if I am, anyway. He - he hurt me,” 

“Give me his address and I’ll go and-”

“No, no, no!” Kevin says hurriedly, “Not like that! I mean, he just said something to me and-”

“I’ll still punch him,” 

Kevin sighs, “No, he just - he just said something to me and I can’t...I can’t forgive him,” 

“What did he say?”

Kevin opens his mouth and then closes it again. Coming out to her is one thing, but telling her about the General is another thing entirely. 

“Just - Just something about staying in the closet,”

Cait sighs, “Look, Kev, I’m not going to sit here and pretend to know anything about being gay but if you - if you really like the guy, go for it. Go for  _ him.  _ You deserve it,” 

“But Dean-”

“-is cute. I’m sure he’ll find someone else,” 

“I don’t think it’s that easy,”

Cait shakes her head, “No, it probably won’t be,” she glances down at his thumb, “that looks sore,” 

He looks down at it and shrugs, “I don’t notice it anymore,”

“I’ll get something for it,” 

When she returns with a tub of Aloe Vera cream, he bursts in tears. She jerks away from him and drops the tub to the floor. 

“Oh,  _ honey _ ,” is all she has to say. 

* * *

When Kevin goes home for the weekend, he does so with the intention to come out to his parents and the rest of his siblings but when the situation first presents itself to him, he chickens out. 

Jack is away on his mission, and apparently doing  _ much better  _ than Kevin did, who can’t quite meet his dad's eye as he tells him this. Eddie is skipping a grade, something that Kevin never did and Rosie has a 5.0 GPA. Another thing that Kevin never did achieve. 

Still, Kevin can’t help but note that whilst he might not be in his parents good books, he is saint-like compared to Brandon. It’s impossible not to notice the way that their parents barely give him much attention anymore. 

“How are you doing, Kev?” his mom asks anxiously, sitting next to him at the dining room table and running her hand up and down his back, “You must be  _ heartbroken _ about Clara,” 

Kevin makes the mistake of glancing over at Brandon who just about manages to disguise a snort of laughter as a cough. Rosie sits on his other side and links their arms together, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Uh, yeah, no, I’m...I’m good,” Kevin mutters, resting his head against Rosies, “It was a bit of a shock but...” he trails off, “I’m good,” 

“I can’t understand it at all,” his mom continues, “I don’t understand why she wouldn’t want to marry you! You’re so handsome and - what on Earth is the matter, Brandon?”

Kevin bites the inside of his cheek when he looks over at his brother who is red in the face to stop himself from laughing. Eddie walks into the dining room right on cue and starts thumping Brandon on the back. 

“S-Sorry,” he gasps, “I think I - I think my water went down the wrong pipe,” 

“What did she say to you, son?” his dad asks, giving Brandon a funny look. 

“Uh...she said...um, she said...” Kevin stutters, “She said that uh...well, we were on campus and she-” he looks back over at Brandon, who suddenly looks terrified and is shaking his head over and over again. But he can’t avoid this forever. He can’t live a lie whenever he comes home. 

“She didn’t break up with me. I broke up with her,” 

The words are out before he can stop them. And no matter how much he would like to, he cannot gobble them back up and stop him from ever saying them in the first place. 

“What?” his dad asks, “Why would you propose to her only to break it off-”

“Because I’m gay,” 

Rosie jerks up, immediately withdrawing her arms from around his. He clenches his jaw and keeps his eyes on Brandon who’s suddenly looking a lot more pale than he usually is. 

“What did you just say?” his dad asks. He sounds exactly as he had done when Kevin came home from Uganda which cannot mean anything good. 

“I said that...I said that, uh-”

“Look at me when you’re speaking to me, Kevin,” he snaps. 

Kevin takes a deep breath and turns to look at his dad, “I said that I’m gay,” 

“You’re not gay,” his dad says impatiently, “You’re just upset because of Clara-”

“ _ I  _ broke up with her, though!” Kevin exclaims, he can feel blood trickle down his hand, “And I - I did it because I’m gay. I’m not confused about anything and-”

“Give it a few months, maybe even a year and you’ll be back to normal,” 

Kevin stands up from the table, “Sorry. I just remembered that I have a paper to do for Monday, I need to go,” 

“Kev, darling, just-” his mom begins. 

“No, I really need to go,” Kevin says, “I need to write it. Sorry. I’ll see you all soon,” 

He doesn’t even have to turn around to know that Brandon is following him out of the house. He only stops walking when he feels Brandon grab his arm and pull him back.

“Kev, come on, dude just-”

“Why did I do that?” he asks, whirling around to face him, “Why did I - why did I come out to them?” 

“I don’t know,” Brandon says quietly, “but you can’t change it now. It’s out and-”

“Everything hurts,” Kevin whispers, rolling his shoulders as he feels the familiar burn of his back pain, “Everything  _ fucking  _ hurts. I don’t know what I’m meant to - I don't get it! I don’t get anything! What am I meant to do?”

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“When I talk about my boyfriend, I don’t mean Connor,” Kevin says, tears brimming behind his eyes, “It’s not - it’s not him, but I - I miss him. God, I miss him  _ so  _ much,” 

Brandon frowns, “Connor isn’t your boyfriend? Then who do you mean when you-” 

“My roommate,” Kevin mutters, “He’s my boyfriend but only because I got home from seeing Connor who’s turned out to be the biggest dick in the world and Dean was just - he was just  _ there  _ and I wasn’t in the right headspace but I kissed him and - and now we’re  _ together _ but I don’t - I don’t even like him like that, but I like Connor like that but he’s such a - he’s  _ horrible.  _ He said something horrible to me and I can’t - I can’t look past it,”

“Maybe you should...maybe you should just...you should probably, uh -  _ Jesus,  _ Kev, this is the wrong way round. You should be giving  _ me  _ relationship advice,” 

Kevin sniffles, “I  _ know  _ but I - I...I’ve fucked up. I don’t know what I’m meant to do,”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Brandon says soothingly, hurrying towards him and putting his hands on shoulders, shaking him slightly, “it’s okay. It’s gonna - it’s gonna be okay. We’re going to work it out, alright? It’s going to be okay, Kevin, I promise,” he sighs and pulls him in for a hug, “Come here, dude. It’s okay,” 

“What do you think mom and dad are going to say?” Kevin mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I don’t know,” Brandon says, “but at least we’re not on our own, right? We stick together,”

“This really is wrong,” Kevin mutters pulling away, “You shouldn’t be acting like the older brother,” 

“The fun thing about knowing you’re gay from a young age in a Mormon household is that you have to grow up quickly,” Brandon says brightly. 

“I’m still the oldest, don’t forget it,” Kevin snaps, shoving his shoulder, “You still have to listen to me,” 

“You were blubbering into my shoulder like five seconds ago,” Brandon says, “So forgive me for not listening to you the next time you - _ agh!” _

Kevin has him in a headlock in seconds, “Who’s the oldest?”

“Kev!” Brandon yells, “Get off me!”

“Who’s the oldest?” Kevin asks again, laughing when Brandon tries (and fails) to hit him in the stomach. 

“You’re the oldest!” Brandon exclaims. 

Kevin laughs and lets him go, “You’re still my little brother and you still have to listen to me. I used to change your diapers, remember?”

“I don’t like you sometimes,” 

“Good,” Kevin laughs, ruffling his hair, “It means I’m doing something right,” 

As he’s walking to the bus stop, he tries not to think about how he feels like something is constantly constricting his windpipe. 

* * *

Kevin fiddles with the bandage that Cait has forced him to wrap around his thumb as he stands in a coffee shop with Dean. It stopped him from scratching for a whole day before he realised that he could just scratch his other thumb. He looks over at Dean and wonders why he’s never mentioned his thumb. Connor noticed even when they weren’t -  _ no.  _ Kevin isn’t letting himself think about Connor. He isn’t with him, he’s with  _ Dean  _ who seems more interested in Twitter than his boyfriends rapidly declining mental health. 

“Hey, Kevin,”    
  
Kevin's head snaps up and Dean grabs his arm. Connor is standing leant against the counter, staring intently at him. It’s in moments like this that Kevin wonders if Heavenly Father is real after all, and is going out of His way to make his life hard. Or maybe Connor is going out of his way to make his life hard by looking so good all the time.    
  
“Hello,” Kevin says stiffly, fighting to keep himself from looking him up and down.    
  
“You good?”    
  
“Yep.” Kevin mutters, “all good. You?”   
  
Connor shrugs, “Getting by,”    
  
“A latte and a green tea for Dean?” the barista calls out.    
  
“That’s us,” Dean says awkwardly.    
  
“Right. Yeah,” Kevin says, grabbing his latte, “See you, McKinley,”    
  
Neither he nor Dean speak until they take their seats on one of the sofas. Usually, Kevin will sit as far away from Dean as possible without making it weird. Being so brazenly out is still not something he is able to do, and Dean seems to understand that.    
  
When Connor sits at a table opposite to them and pulls a laptop out of his bag, this changes. He’s already out to his family, so why not out himself to an entire coffee shop just to spite an ex who’s barely an ex? Kevin shuffles over to Dean and puts his arm around him.    
  
“Ooh, what’s this for?” Dean asks.    
  
Kevin shrugs, “Nothing. I just like being with you,”    
  
“Wow, you do have feelings.” Dean says.    
  
Kevin rolls his eyes and kisses the top of his head, “I have feelings and you’re annoying,”    
  
He glances over at Connor whose eyes are trained on the two of them. Kevin clenches his jaw and turns to smile at Dean, hooking a thumb under his chin and lifting his face towards him.    
  
“I like this Kevin,” Dean whispers.    
  
“I’m glad,” Kevin whispers back before leaning in and kissing him.    
  
When they pull away, Dean leans his head on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin looks back over at Connor and smirks. They maintain eye contact for a moment before Connor slams his laptop shut and shoves it in his bag, storming out of the coffee shop.    
  
As Kevin stares at the table where Connor had been sat just a moment before and Dean sits up to kiss his cheek, he starts to think that maybe he’s a terrible person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, but thank-you for reading!


	7. See You Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Kevin Price says goodbye.**

One day, Kevin notices that Dean has started sleeping in his own bed again, and that his belongings are mysteriously disappearing into boxes. He then realises that they haven’t had sex for almost two weeks, that they’ve barely even _kissed._

He frowns down at his laptop, his hands hovering over the keyboard as he mulls over these strange new developments in his relationship. Pursing his lips slightly, Kevin closes his laptop and spins around in his chair, facing Dean who is lay with his back to him on his bed. 

“Is everything okay?” Kevin asks. 

Dean rolls over onto his side and stares at him for a moment before he sits up, “I need to speak to you,”

“Yeah, I figured,” Kevin says. 

“I want to break up,” 

Kevin blinks at him. It isn’t exactly a surprise, or even something that Kevin hadn’t thought about himself, but that didn’t stop it from _hurting._ He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, trying to think about the best way to react to this sudden announcement. 

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, “I like you, Kevin, alright? But I think - I think you’re caught up on Connor. You haven’t been the same since we saw him that day,”

“I’m not caught up on-”

“You are,” Dean cuts across, “You are, and that’s okay. I’m not stupid, I know that I was just a rebound,” 

Kevin looks away from him, “You weren’t _just_ a rebound, you’re-”

“No, Kevin, it’s okay, seriously,” Dean says, “It wasn't meant to be, and that’s fine. I was always going to move off campus at the end of this year and I’ve got a friend who said I can move in with her so we don’t have to...we don’t have to do this,” he gestured between the two of them, “I’ll be out by Friday,” 

Kevin frowns, “It’s Wednesday,” 

“I know, I’ll be out of your hair before you know it,” 

“Oh. Okay,” Kevin pauses for a moment, “Sorry,” 

Dean stares at him and then shakes his head, “Look, Kev, I know - I know something happened to you on your mission and I think you have a lot of issues with it and-”

“What?” Kevin interrupts, “What do you-”

“I saw that you’re apart of some sexual assault support group on Facebook,” 

Kevin blushes and looks away from him, tears brimming behind his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it, thank-you,” 

“I just - I think it’ll be best if we break up, alright?” Dean says, “you have...you have stuff to work through,” 

“Okay. Yeah, you’re right,” Kevin whispers, turning around to face his laptop again. 

They sit in silence for a while until Dean tells him that he’s going out and will be back later. Kevin spends the rest of his day wondering how the General is still managing to ruin everything good for him. 

* * *

Arnold doesn’t understand why he’s so upset. _Kevin_ doesn’t understand why he’s so upset, but that doesn’t stop him from being upset. They’re sitting in Arnold’s apartment that he shares with a cousin who is never around. Whenever Kevin goes to Arnold’s apartment, he can’t understand why he didn’t move in with his best friend. At least then he wouldn’t have met Dean. 

“You don’t even _like_ Dean like that,” Arnold says with a frown, “We could all see it,”

Kevin sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I _know_ but I didn’t - I thought it was right. He was just - he was _there_ and-”

“He was convenient,” Arnold says, “he made you forget about Connor, but clearly not enough,”

Kevin glowers at Arnold, “I wish people would stop talking to me about him. Cait brought him up and then Dean brought him and I spoke to Brandon before and _he_ brought him up! This isn’t - this isn’t about Connor! Not everything is about Connor!”

“No, everything isn’t about Connor, but this is,” Arnold says, “I’ve always known you liked him. I knew it the first time we met him,” 

Kevin feel his face heat up and he looks away from Arnold for a moment, “I - I _can’t_ ,” 

“Why, bud?” Arnold asks, “Why do you always do this to yourself? Why don’t you - why don’t you let yourself have the things that will make you happy?”

“You know what he said to me, Arn,” Kevin says impatiently. 

“I know,” Arnold says, “and he’s horrible for it, and I can’t promise that I won’t try and kick him the next time I see him, but I don’t think he’s like that. You know he’s not like that. He’s never been like that,” 

Kevin shakes his head, “No. I can’t. He can’t - he can’t use that against me!” his voice turns frantic and his attention immediately goes to his thumb, “it’s not fair! It’s not - it’s not his to talk about! Only _I_ get to talk about that and on - on _my_ terms, no one else's! If I want to talk about it, I’ll talk about it, I’ll start that conversation! He doesn’t get to-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Arnold says gently, grabbing his hand, “I know, Kev. I understand, you know I do,” 

“I know you do,” Kevin groans, wiping his eyes, “I’m not - I’m not angry at you,” 

“Give it a minute and you will be,” Arnold says quietly. 

Kevin cocks his head to the side slightly, “Please don’t tell me that you’ve accidentally made up another religion again,” 

“No, I...uh...this is...this is probably worse,” Arnold says, “Um, I - you know like Naba is visiting next week?”

“Yeah...” 

“I’ve organised a little party for her, a couple of friends...some of the District Nine guys...”

“Cute,” 

“And I want you there, _obviously._ And Naba wants you there because she misses you but the - uh - well, the venue might be a bit of an issue for you,” 

Kevin narrows his eyes, “Why?” 

"It’s at Connor’s apartment,” 

Kevin rips his hand out of Arnold’s grip and shuffles away from him on the sofa, his eyes wide. 

“Kev, buddy, please,” Arnold says hastily, “but you know how close Connor and Naba were close in Uganda and he has the biggest apartment! Everyone is flying from all over the country and it’s not as though we can afford to rent somewhere out!” 

“Why would you - I can’t go back there!” Kevin exclaims, “That’s where I cheated on Clara! Where I - I lost my virginity on his _sofa!”_

“The _couch?”_ Arnold exclaims, “Why the - does Connor not own a bed?” 

“I don’t know!” Kevin exclaims, “We were just kissing and then it sort of escalated and - that’s not the point, Arn!” 

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” 

Kevin slumps sideways into Arnold, resting his head on his shoulder. 

“Naba will kill me if I miss it, won’t she?” 

“She might attempt to,”

“I’ll go,” Kevin says, “but I’m not speaking to _him_ ,”

* * *

The moment Kevin steps foot in Connor’s apartment, the wind is knocked out of him and his vision is obscured by thick, curly hair. At first, he thinks that Arnold is overcompensating but then he hears that thick Ugandan accent that he didn’t realise he missed hearing so much and wraps his arms around Nabulungi, picking her up slightly. 

“I have missed you, Kevin!” she screams, jumping up and down on the spot, “Most of the village have, in fact! They miss seeing you and Arnold together,”

“I’ve missed you too, Naba,” Kevin says, “how’s home?” 

She shrugs, “It’s just home, you know? Baba has taken over a lot of Connor’s old jobs, and we’re still preaching the Book of Arnold! Not that many people listen to us...” she frowns for a moment and then beams, “but guess what?”

“What?” 

“I am moving here in the fall!” 

Kevin gasps, “Seriously? How?” 

“Arnold’s parents have offered to help me move over! His dad has gotten me a job working with him and I’ll live with Arnold! Isn’t that exciting?” 

“It’s gonna be great to have you back, Naba,” 

“I know, because who else is going to stop you from doing stupid shit? You and Arnold are dangerous together,” her expression suddenly turns sad and she takes one of his hands in both of hers, “Arnold has told me that you’ve been having a hard time recently,” 

Kevin snorts, “That’s one way to put it,” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

They end up sitting in the hall outside of the apartment. Nabulungi rests her head against Kevin’s shoulder whilst he fills her in on everything - the back pain, his short-lived engagement, Brandon coming out to him, him then coming out to Brandon after sleeping with Connor, mistakenly coming out to his parents who haven’t returned any of his calls, and the mistake that was his entire relationship with Dean. 

“...and the worst thing about this whole thing is that I still _like_ Connor. Even after he told me that I was naive for going to the General’s camp,” Kevin sighed. 

“You have said awful things when you’re angry, no?” Nabulungi asks. 

“No, I know - but I can’t look past it and be with him. I really, _really_ want to but I don’t know if I can!” 

“You should at least try and forgive him,” Nabulungi says, “Or _talk_ to him. We went out for lunch and he wouldn’t shut up about you,” 

“Oh, yeah? What did he say?”

Nabulungi laughs and stands up, pulling him with her, “I’m not breaking girl code, Kevin. Just speak to him when you’re ready,” 

Kevin walks back into the apartment and tries his best not to look terrified. He waves at Cait who he had forced to come with him, _just in case._ She is talking to Arnold, James and Chris. She looks nothing short of confused, but he can't blame her when he hears the words, "magical AIDs frog," and chuckles under his breath. 

He spots Elder Neeley and Elder Zelder in the corner and immediately makes a beeline for them, but not without passing the sofa where Connor is sat. They make eye contact and Kevin blushes bright red, trying his very best not to think about the last time they were on that sofa together. 

“Ah, here’s everyone’s favourite Super Mormon,” 

“Shut up, Neeley,” Kevin scowls, thankful for a distraction from Connor McKinley. 

“Hows your lady love?” Zelder asks, pressing a bottle of beer into his hand. 

Kevin tenses up and takes a swig of his drink, despite the fact that he can’t really stand the taste of alcohol. 

“Uh...no longer my lady love. We broke up,” 

“Oh,” Zelder says awkwardly, “Sorry, dude. I didn’t realise,” 

“When did this happen?” Neeley asks, “I was looking forward to the wedding,” 

“Few weeks ago. I, uh...well...I’m gay,” 

The two of them stare at him for a moment and then Zelder curses quietly. 

“Great, now I owe Michaels 50 bucks. I don’t _have_ 50 bucks. If you see him, can you pretend to be straight until payday?”

“Did you have bets on whether I was gay or not?” 

“How else were we meant to pass the time in Uganda?” 

Kevin can’t really argue with that and shrugs, “I always thought you were gay, Neeley,”

“Thought or hoped?” Neeley asks with a smirk. 

“Prayed every night, actually,” Kevin says. 

Neeley nods, “Understandable. A lot of lesbians pray that I’m straight so that I won’t steal their girlfriends,” 

“Oh, god, you’re so fricking annoying,” Zelder groans, “You’re not all that, Neeley,” 

Neeley tutted, “You would, wouldn’t you, McKinley?” 

Kevin whirls around to see Connor frowning at them, his back half turned to them, “I would what?”

“You’d have sex with me, given the chance,” 

“Are you propositioning me, Neeley?” 

“ _No,_ I’m just saying that given the chance, you’d sleep with me, right?” Neeley asks, “I’m a catch!”

“Given the chance, I probably _wouldn’t_ ,” Connor says slowly, “but...you know...I can introduce you to an app called Grindr if you want. There’s plenty of men on there,”

Zelder laughs, “You an expert on this app or something, McKinley?”

Connor smirks, “Maybe,” 

Kevin clenches his jaw and downs the rest of his drink as Connor begins to explain the concept of Grindr to a mortified Neeley. And he _isn’t_ jealous, he tells himself, because Connor has every right to sleep with whoever he wants and he most definitely doesn’t want to try and steal Connor’s phone and delete the damned app. 

He very quickly excuses himself, seeking solace on the balcony. He leans against it, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to regulate his breathing. 

“Hey,” 

Kevin turns around to see Connor holding a bottle of beer out to him. 

“Hey,” he says quietly, taking the bottle off him, “It’s nice of you to do all this for Nabulungi,” 

Connor shrugs, “It’s very hard to say no to Arnold, isn’t it?”

“That’s how I ended up at Comic-Con dressed as Batman,” Kevin sighs. 

“How is...how is your boyfriend?” Connor asks tentatively. 

“Not my boyfriend,” Kevin says, “He broke up with me last week. So I can add him to the list of guys who’ve left me because of the General. I have a lot of issues to work through, according to him,” 

“I know you’re - I know you’re still angry at me and probably fed up of me saying this but I am sorry,” Connor says, “You know I’m sorry, Kevin,” 

“You don’t understand,” Kevin says, “what - what it does to a person. Being assaulted, I mean. You don’t get it.” He pauses and looks down at his drink, “Unless - unless you do?”  
  
“No. No I don’t.”  
  
Kevin feels a wave of relief wash over him and he nods, “So you don’t get it. That’s why you said what you said.”  
  
“Help me understand,” Connor says quietly.  
  
Kevin bites his lip and looks up at the sky. The alcohol is egging him on, and he knows that he’ll probably regret this in the morning but it doesn’t stop him from talking.  
  
“It’s like...it’s like my body isn’t mine anymore. It’s like it belongs to him,” Kevin says quietly, “He took it from me. He decided that he could - that he could do whatever he wanted with it, and he did. And from that moment on...once he - after he’d finished and threw me to the side like trash...it belongs to him. And I can never change that. I can never change that there’s someone out there who felt like they could do whatever the fuck they wanted with me. It’s something I’m going to have to carry with my entire _fucking_ life. I’m going to have to somehow deal with the fact that I don’t feel like my body is mine. When I look in the mirror, when I’m naked, when I’m having sex, when I’m - when I’m doing _anything_ it’s a reminder of him. I look down at my hands and I remember that I was staring at them the entire time. I see my hair messy when I wake up and I remember that’s how it looked afterwards. Sometimes the taste of coffee drags me right back to that die. Sometimes if I’m - if I’m sore in the morning, it’s like - it’s like the way I was after I was assaulted and I - I can’t get rid of those reminders. I can’t get rid of myself,”  
  
Connor let’s out a shaky breath and Kevin thinks that he might be crying, but he doesn’t look to check.  
  
“And the pain faded. I can walk normally again. Everything healed. The bruises are gone. Any physical trace of what happened is gone, but the - the mental scars? They’re still there,” he continues, “and I know I look like I’m just getting on with it but I’m not. I’m hurting and I’m terrified and I live in fear that it’ll happen again. That one day someone else is going to decide that they can do what they want with me. That someone else is going to take ownership of my body again, because I don’t know how long it’ll be before I feel like my body is mine again. Or if...if I’ll ever feel like it,”  
  
He looks over at Connor, and there’s tears streaming down his face.  
  
“And that night that we spent together, I didn’t...I didn’t realise that my body was capable of feeling that way,” Kevin says quietly, “I didn’t realise that someone could - someone could touch me like that and it’d feel good. I always sort of thought that sex wouldn’t feel good for me ever. And it did and- and it was like it was mine again. Like I’d gotten my body back. Like I was me again. It was me who had decided to kiss you, it was me who’d decided to have sex. I _chose_ to do those things and it was the most _empowered_ I’ve felt since everything that happened and I felt safe and-“ he scoffs, “not that it matters now, anyway,”  
  
Connor is fully crying now, and in a sick sort of way, Kevin thinks he deserves it. He deserves to know how much pain Kevin has been in, how much pain those words caused.  
  
“I might be the stupidest person in this whole world,”  
  
Kevin laughs, “I don’t think so. You should meet the person I sit next to in psychology. He’s stupid.”  
  
“He wouldn’t have said what I said to you though, would he?”  
  
“I never thought you would,” Kevin says.  
  
Connor takes his glasses off and wipes his eyes, “I’m really sorry, Kevin. I didn’t - I didn’t think. I was just angry and upset and confused because I’d finally got somewhere with you but it wasn’t how I wanted it to be and I - I don’t want to be the reason you’re hurting. Ever. I’d rather throw myself off this balcony than do that,”  
  
“Alright, Romeo, calm down,” Kevin mutters.  
  
Connor laughs, “I’m being serious,”  
  
He looks up at Connor and sighs, “Look, I can’t...I can’t look past it. What you said. I really want to. But I...can’t.”  
  
“I understand,” Connor says quietly, “I don’t think I’d be able to, either,”  
  
Kevin nods and looks down at his hands, “I think you’re going to make someone very happy one day,”  
  
Connor doesn’t reply and Kevin turns to look up at him, admiring him for a moment. And he can’t help but stretch up to place a kiss on his cheek. He feels Connor shudder beneath his lips, feels him lean closer.  
  
“See you around, Connor,”  
  
He makes it all the way to the lobby of the building before breaking down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. Miraculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Kevin Price goes off the rails, and starts to pick up the pieces.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw:/ description of sexual assault

A lot has changed in a year, and Kevin is struggling to keep up; he has dropped out of college and is now working in a liquor store, he’s started frequenting both gay bars and Grindr and has picked up a fair few guys who make him forget about everything for a while - though none of them are Connor McKinley, and it hurts more than he wants it to.

Upon realising that their son has gone completely off the rails and seen the Grindr app on his phone, his parents have completely cut off contact with him until _you pull yourself together, Kevin, we didn’t raise you like this. No, you didn’t,_ he had argued back, _you raised me to blindly follow a God who doesn’t give two shits about me._

Worse, there aren't many real people who seem to give two shits about him; most of the guys he sleeps with leave the next morning and never text him again and he doesn’t speak to anyone outside of Arnold, Nabulungi, Cait and Brandon. Apart from the man who runs the liquor shop, Mr Feltz; he invites him around for dinner with him and his wife sometimes, and Kevin is slowly coming to terms with the fact that he is friends with a 65 year old man and his wife.

He spends most nights in his shitty apartment in shitty Provo trying to work out how his life has become so... _shitty_. One minute he had been the perfect son, the perfect Mormon, the perfect missionary and sure, he’d messed up a little but he’d managed to pull himself together enough to not be a complete disappointment. And then he’d messed up even more and it isn’t a nice feeling.

Annoyingly, Connor McKinley is still living rent free in his head and he may or may not have accidentally moaned his name a few times when sleeping with someone. If anyone ever noticed, they never said anything and Kevin was okay with that.

“You should reach out to him,” Brandon says casually one day. He has brought his boyfriend, Evan, around to meet Kevin, and he’s wondering if he should give him the talk.

"Reach out to who?” Kevin asks, “Do you want a drink, Evan?”

“Stop avoiding the subject,” Brandon says impatiently, “I mean Connor,”

“Why would I do that?” Kevin asks, handing Evan a can of Coke, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m over him?”

“Your phone is unlocked on Connor’s instagram,”

“Stop looking at my phone,” Kevin snaps, hitting him around the head, “I probably just accidentally clicked on his profile or something,”

“Sure you did,” Brandon says, “I believe you,”

Kevin glares at him as he shoves his phone back into his pocket, “Focus on your own love life, yeah? Speaking of...”

Brandon groans, “Please don’t start talking about what I think you’re about to talk about,”

“Are you sexually active?”

“Oh my god,” Evan mutters, “Oh my god,”

“ _Kevin!_ ” Brandon exclaims, face bright red, “You can’t just - you can’t just ask me that!”

Wordleslley, Kevin stands up from his sofa and walks into his bedroom, picking up a box of condoms and a bottle of lube. He places them both in front of a mortified Brandon and a quite amused Evan.

“Use them,” Kevin says, “That way neither of you are going to get hurt or get an STD,”

Brandon groans and sinks back into the sofa, his hands over his face, “I hate you,”

“Bran, I’m being serious,” Kevin says, “it can - it can _hurt_ and I don’t want you to go through what I - I mean, it shouldn’t hurt. That’s all. It shouldn’t hurt,”

Brandon peeks through his fingers, “What? Did something happen to you?”

“No, I just - I’ve made mistakes. That's all,”

“I don’t think I want to know,”

An image of the General looming over him flashes to the forefront of his mind and Kevin nods.

“Yeah, I don’t think you do,”

* * *

Kevin is sitting in Arnold and Nabulungi’s flat when he comes to the realisation that his best friend is annoying again. It isn’t a nice feeling, but neither is having Arnold lecture him about how unhealthy his lifestyle is.

“You’ve just gone _completely_ off the rails, Kev!” Arnold exclaims, “You’ve dropped out of college, you’re drinking, you’re partying, you’re sleeping around-”

“I’m not acting any differently to anyone else my age!” Kevin snaps, “God, you sound like my dad. It’s annoying,”

“ _I’m_ annoying?” Arnold scoffs, “No, Kev, do you know what is annoying? You _constantly_ cancelling our plans because you’re too hungover to come and meet me for lunch!”

Kevin rolls his eyes, “I’ve done that once or twice!”

“You did it three times in a row! I feel like - I feel like I’m losing you, bud,”

“You sound like you did in Uganda,”

“It was easier to lose you back then, it’s not easy this time,” Arnold snaps.

“You’re being dramatic, I can’t deal with you,” Kevin says, jumping up from the sofa, “I’m going home,”

“Kev, wait, please,” Arnold says quickly, grabbing his hand, “I’m not trying to be - look, this just - this isn’t _like_ you. You’re not like your normal self and I’m worried about you,”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Arn!” Kevin yells, ripping his hand out of his grip, “I’m fine!”

“What are your plans for tonight?” Arnold asks.

“I’m going to a bar and-”

“-you’re going to get really drunk and bring some guy home?”

Kevin takes a step back from Arnold, noting the disgust in his voice. What’s left of his heart breaks and he doesn’t know whether he wants to cry into Arnold’s shoulder or never speak to him again.

“If you have a problem with me being gay-”

“No, the problem isn’t that you’re gay. The problem is that your Friday night plans used to be sitting at home and watching television with me. Not trying to fuck the first person who looks your way!”

“I can _fuck_ as many people as I damn please, Arnold!” Kevin snaps, “I’m single! It doesn’t matter!”

“You’re missing my point!” Arnold yells, actually stamping his foot in frustration, “after the General, you didn’t like being touched and now-”

“Because I’m better!”

“I don’t think you are, buddy,” Arnold says quietly, “I think you’re hiding it but you don’t have to, not around me. You can tell me what’s wrong. You can tell me if it’s gotten bad again because we can deal with it, we always-”

“I thought you understood,” Kevin says, equally as quietly.

“What?”

“I thought you understood that no one else gets to talk about that, that only _I_ get to start the conversation about what happened in the Generals camp. You don’t - it’s not yours to talk about or start a conversation,”

Arnold suddenly looks mortified; his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

“Oh, no, Kev, I didn’t - I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you - I just...I’m worried about you, and I-”

“I’m going home,” Kevin says, “I don’t - I don’t want to be here right now,”

He slams the door behind him and storms out of the flat. His anger at Arnold last a record breaking ten minutes before Kevin realises that he has a point. He turns on his heel with a huff and walks right back to Arnold’s flat.

“Are you here to shout at me for a bit longer?” Arnold asks.

Kevin glares, “No. I’m here to say sorry. You have every right to be worried about me, but you really don’t need to. I’m safe, I promise. I don’t drink that much, I don’t take any drugs and I don’t sleep with just _anyone_ . I mean, Jesus, I have _standards_ ,”

Arnold sighs, “Okay. I’ll lay off,”

Kevin laughs, “No, you won’t,”

“Yeah...”

* * *

Despite being of the legal drinking age, and no longer a Mormon, Kevin still feels odd ordering at a bar. Though this doesn’t not stop him ordering a triple Gin and Tonic with a shot of Sambuca on the side - because why should it?

He downs his shot and enjoys the slight burn it leaves behind as his eyes scan the bar, seeing if anyone is worth his time. His eyes fall on a lone man in the corner of the room and he contemplates going over to him as he sips his gin until the man's boyfriend walks over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

Tutting, Kevin looks over at the other side of the bar but still sees no one he feels even slightly attracted to. What is the point in being a gay man in a gay bar if he finds none of the men attractive?

Just as he downs his gin and waits to pay for another, he feels someone press up against his back and wrap an arm around his stomach, fingers digging into his hips. He is frozen, paralysed with fear as whoever is behind him drags him away from the bar.

“Excuse me,” Kevin says, finally finding his (slightly slurred) voice, “I need to pay for my drink,”

“Don’t worry, pretty. I got it for you,”

Kevin lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. It is all too familiar: the possessive arm around his waist, the strong body - much stronger than his own - presses right against his, not listening to any of his objections. It is going to happen again and he is powerless to stop it.

“Please just let me go. I need to find my friends,” Kevin lies.

“After buying you a drink? That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come entertain me for a while. I have a key to the staff bathroom,”

“No, thank-you,” Kevin says, “Please, no. My best friend is - he’ll be looking for me...it’s his birthday and-“

“Oh, but it’s my birthday too,” the man says, spinning him around and pushing him against the wall, “Why not give me a little present? You have quite the mouth, darling,” he runs his fingers along Kevin’s lips.

Kevin glances around the bar, wondering why no one is trying to stop this from happening, why no one has noticed his terrified expression.

“Drink up, lovely,” the man says, pushing his cup up to his mouth.

Kevin complies, because maybe that will make it easier, maybe it’ll make him forget.

“So pretty,” he whispers, mouth hot against Kevin’s neck.

The man's hands drops down the back of Kevin’s jeans, down his _underwear_ and he stiffens against him, eyes wide because _no, no, no, this can’t happen again. Not again. Not again._

“Please,” Kevin whispers, “You don’t - you don’t understand...I don't want to-“ he broke off when he feels something press into him, “No, please, no, no-“

“ _Hey!_ ” Someone yells, “Get off him you fucking creep!”

“Don’t worry, you can have your turn-“

“I said get off him!”

The voice is oddly familiar, but Kevin can’t work out who. He doesn’t even get the chance to find out; the man is dragged away from him and then he hears the sound of someone being punched. Kevin falls to the floor, his eyes screwed shut and knees drawn up to his chest.

“Kev? Kevin? Are you - Are you alright?” The voice asks.

Kevin opens his eyes to try and see who is crouched in front of him, but the bar is dark and seems to be spinning.

“Scared,” he whispers brokenly, “so scared. It almost - it almost happened again. I don’t - _why?_ Why me? What’ve I - What’ve I done wrong?”

“Nothing, you’ve done - you’ve done nothing wrong. This isn’t your fault, I promise,”

Kevin doesn’t know what possesses him to launch himself at whoever is in front of him and sob into their shoulder but he doesn’t have to think about it for much longer as darkness creeps into his vision.

* * *

When he first wakes, all he can smell is coffee and, for a brief moment, he wonders if he accidentally slept with a Starbucks barista. He looks down at his clothes and realises that he’s wearing the same clothes he had on last night, so perhaps he didn’t sleep with anyone.

Groaning at the effort of it all, he props himself up in the bed that he’s in and looks around; the room is somehow alien and familiar at the same time. He looks to his side and his eyes fall on a picture of two Mormon missionaries stood together, holding a peculiar red book in their hands.

“Oh, no,” Kevin mutters to himself, “Oh, no, oh, _no_ ,”

He leaps out of the bed and scrambles around the room, desperately trying to find his shoes when there’s a knock on the door.

“Kevin? Are you awake?”

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he hisses before straightening up, smoothing his hair down and opening the door, “Hey,”

Connor smiles at him, “There’s breakfast in the kitchen,”

“Right. I’ll be...I’ll be there,” Kevin mutters.

When the door shuts again, Kevin groans and snatches his phone off the bed and sends a panicked text to Arnold.

**< Fucked up!!! Woke up in Connors bed!!!!!???!!!**

**> Omg **

**> Did you have sex????????? **

**< NO IDEA **

**< WILL COME ROUND LATER TO EITHER PANIC OR CELEBRATE **

Taking a few deep breaths, Kevin shoves his phone into his pocket and hurries out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen. Connor is sat on the sofa eating cereal.

“I have a disturbing amount of cereal, take what you want,” he says, “There’s some Poptarts in the cupboard if you want then,”

Kevin decides on the Poptarts, if not because the act of toasting then means looking away from Connor. He takes as long as possible without being weird. He sits on the armchair opposite the sofa - because he hopes to never sit there again - and takes a bite of his Poptart.

“We didn’t have sex last night,” Connor says into the silence, "if thats what you're panicking about,"

“Oh.” Kevin says, “Right. Good.”

“Do you remember...do you remember _anything_ from last night?”

“Um, no, I don’t...I don’t... _oh_...” he trails off and looks down at his breakfast, suddenly losing his appetite, “Yeah. I remember,”

“Are you alright?”

He puts his breakfast on the coffee table and curls up on the armchair, that familiar feeling of his nail scratching against his thumb keeping him grounded.

“He tried to - he had his finger in my -“ his voice breaks, “Why's it always me?”

“I don’t know,” Connor whispers, “I’m sorry,”

Kevin wipes his eyes on the back of his hand as a few hazy memories float to the front of his mind, “Did I - Did I ruin your night out? You were there, weren’t you?”

“That’s the bar I work at,” Connor explains, “I was in the back all night because we’d had a delivery and when I clocked out, I saw you and him. I tried to get him off you but he didn’t listen so I...” he trails off and his cheeks go slightly red, “I punched him,”

“You punched him?” Kevin repeats.

Connor holds his right hand up; there’s a light smattering of bruises along his knuckles.

“You’re not...you’re not in trouble are you?”

“Oh, well, uh...I may or may not have been fired this morning,” Connor replies, “It’s generally frowned upon to punch our customers. I should have just called security,”

“Do you want me to call your manager? I can say-”

Connor smiles and shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. I got paid this morning so I’ll just have to be smart this month and try to get a new job. I’ve been wanting to leave for a while, anyway. There’s only so many cocktails I can make before I try and commit a felony,”

Kevin nods and sinks back into the cushions, trying his very best to fend off his impending breakdown. He takes a shaky breath and scratches at his thumb, but he can still feel the man pressed up against him, can feel his hot breath on his neck.

“Do you...do you need anything?” Connor asks quietly, “Do you need me to call Arnold?”

“No,” Kevin mutters, “I don’t want him to worry. I’ll see him later,”

He looks over at Connor and clears his throat, “Thank-you,”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Connor says quickly, “It was - it was nothing,”

“You lost your job,”

“I was the worst bartender,” Connor shrugs, “I could never be bothered to learn how to make cocktails properly and used to charge people for a single measure even if they asked for a double. I was always destined to be fired,”

Kevin laughs and stands up, stretching his arms above his head, “I should probably go and see Arnold,”

“Do you want me to drive you?” Connor asks, “it’s not like I have anywhere to be,”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

Connor waves him down, “Don’t waste your money on an Uber,”

Kevin expects the drive to be awkward, but it’s anything but. It makes him forget about what happened at the bar and when Connor pulls up outside Arnold’s apartment, he feels disappointed about the fact that he’s going to have to get out.

“I’m expecting a five star rating,” Connor says.

“Depends what you’re going to rate me,”

Connor purses his lips, “Four and a half. You need a shower,”

Kevin tuts, “If you’d have been a better host, you would have given me fresh pyjamas,”

“I’ll try and be better for the next time,” Connor says, “Would you like your own set of toiletries as well?”

“And a towel folded into the shape of a swan like in those fancy hotels,”

“I actually have the time to learn how to make those now. Maybe I will,” Connor sighs. He looks over at him and smiles. Kevin pretends that his heart doesn’t skip a few beats. “Don’t be a stranger, Kev,”

When Kevin gets to Arnold’s apartment, the first panicked question out of his mouth is, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Kevin says, “Yeah. I’m good. I’m okay,”

* * *

Had someone told Kevin a year ago that he and Connor would one day be friends again, he would have scoffed in their faces and told them to fuck off. But now, he spends most of his days off with Connor; whether it be meeting him after he’s finished college for the day, helping him apply for new jobs, helping him prep for interviews or collapsing onto his sofa after a long day at work.

“Why do I never see your roommate?” Kevin asks one day.

“Because she’s always doing something strange,” Connor tells him, “she’s a Witch now,”

Kevin frowns, “What?”

Connor gestures around the living room, “All these crystals and bits of sage, it's all hers. She met these girls on a night out and now she’s a Witch,”

“I thought the crystals were yours,”

“Please, Kevin, I might be gay but I’m not _that_ gay,” Connor scoffs, “sometimes I hear her chanting and I’m not sure if she’s just trying to scare me or if she’s actually casting a spell or something,”

“Your life is a bit tragic,”

Connor sighs, “Isn’t it just?”

And as happy as Kevin is to have Connor back in his life, it’s _frustrating._ He has finally accepted that, after everything, he does want something more with Connor, but he just doesn’t think Connor wants the same. There are moments when Connor stands too close for it to be strictly platonic and when his gaze lingers for longer than it would with someone else, but there are also moments when he calls him _bud_ and claps him on the shoulder like they’re nothing but friends.

“Jesus Christ, just ask him out, Kevin!” Arnold groans, once Kevin has finished his bi-weekly rant about how much he likes Connor.

“I _can’t_ ,” Kevin says, “I don’t know if...I don’t know if he feels the same way,”

Arnold stares at him, “Dude, he was literally cuddled up to you last night!”

“That doesn’t mean anything! Me and you cuddle!”

“Just go round to his apartment and ask him out for coffee or something,” Arnold says, “It’s that easy,”

“It’s isn’t,” Kevin grumbles, “I’ve never had to ask someone out before,”

“Kevin, you _proposed_ to someone,” Arnold says.

“But I was so _bad_ at it!” Kevin says, “it was like...the most cliche thing ever. I think I called her ‘The One’ like fifteen times,”

“Do you want me to ask him out for you?”

“We’re not fifteen! No!”

Kevin likes to think that when he does eventually ask Connor out, it’ll be in the most romantic way possible - they’ll be candles, a bunch of flowers and Kevin will tell him how much he appreciates him, how he’s always liked him, and how he would really like to take him out on a date.

Only, it doesn’t quite go like this.

One night, he and Connor are sitting facing each other on the sofa in Kevin’s apartment, slowly but surely drinking their way through a bottle of wine. Connor had called him, lamenting the fact that his roommate was home with some of her friends.

“I’m sitting in my room trying to ignore them, but they’re being... _weird_. But like, weirder than usual. Can I come over?”

“Yeah!” Kevin had said enthusiastically, “Text me when you’re here,”

Kevin takes a sip of his wine and looks over at Connor. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask someone out on a date, or to tell someone that he likes them. All he has to do is suggest they go for a coffee one day.

“Are you just gonna sit and stare at me all night?” Connor asks.

Kevin jumps and almost spills his drink down himself, “Sorry. I was...I was thinking,”

“About?”

“Uh...us?”

“Us?” Connor repeats.

“Yeah,” Kevin says, his palms going sweaty, “Us and - and...what we are,”

“Gay Ex-Mormons?”

Kevin laughs, “No, I mean...I mean what _we_ are. Because I - I really like you and I don’t want to...I don’t want to chicken out of asking you on a date,”

Connor looks away from him for a moment before his eyes flicker up to meet his again, “I can’t get over what I said to you,” his voice is so quiet that Kevin has to inch forward to hear him properly, “No matter...no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget it. And when I saw you at the bar I just - I can’t _believe_ that I could even suggest that it was your fault for-”

“I know,” Kevin says hurriedly, “I know but you...you’re sorry. I know you are and I - I forgive you. I’ve said horrible stuff to people before. I mean, I used to be awful to Arnold, and like also...I’m also 90% sure that I used to be really homophobic and probably a little bit sexist now that I’m thinking about it. I also used to think that George Bush the second was like the best President ever but now that I’ve gotten older I’m sort of like...was he though? I bet you didn’t think that George Bush was a good President,”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you’ve had a drink?”

“I think you’re miraculous,”

Connor stares at him, “You think I’m...miraculous?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t even know what that means,”

“You’re like Nabulungi’s play,”

“Oh, the play that got us excommunicated from the Church and almost ruined our lives? Thanks,”

“No, I mean like - that play made me realise that everything was going to be okay and that there was still hope and - and that’s how you make me feel,” Kevin babbles, setting his glass on the floor, “Look, I know that doesn’t make any sense but I - I really like you, Connor and I always have! Even when - even when you didn’t know what had happened to me with the General, you were nice and always there and - well, you’re also very attractive and you have a nice butt. Not that that’s the most important thing but I...it’s a nice butt. Sorry. I’m talking shit,”

Connor puts his own glass down, his face unreadable. Kevin bites the inside of his lip, wondering if he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe he should have gotten Arnold to do this for him.

“Can I kiss you?” Connor asks.

Kevin looks at him, _properly_ looks at him: blue eyes sparkling with tears behind those glasses that Kevin might be a little bit in love with and pink dusted cheeks smattered with freckles that he might be a little bit in love with. Or maybe he is just a little bit in love.

Kevin nods and leans forward, gasping slightly when their lips connect. It’s unlike any kiss that he's shared with anyone in the past year. Those kisses had been rough and an afterthought from whatever guy he’d been with who probably thought if I’m fucking him, it’s only polite. This kiss is neither rough nor an afterthought; it’s deep and passionate and says things that probably should have been said long ago.

When Connor pulls away, Kevin actually pouts. 

“Hey. No. Kiss me again,”  
  
Connor laughs and leans towards him again, his arms loop around his waist and he pulls the two of them closer together, and Kevin decides that he never wants to go more than half an hour without kissing Connor McKinley again.

“I don’t want to have sex,” Connor says when they pull away again.

“Oh,”

“I just mean...I just mean tonight. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” Connor explains, “it doesn’t make any sense, I know but...it’ll make me feel better,”

Kevin nods and kisses him again, “It’s okay. I understand,”

Connor smiles and runs a hand through his hair, “You have very soft hair,”

“I have a fifteen step hair care routine,”

“That does not surprise me in the slightest,” Connor laughs, “I don’t really know what to do now, I feel like I’ve sorta ruined it with the no sex-”

“Hold me,” Kevin blurts.

Connor frowns at him, “Pardon?”  
  
“Hold me,” Kevin repeats, “I - I like that - I like that you’re taller than me,”  
  
“What’s that got to do with anything?”  
  
“Because when you - when you hug me I can just, I can hide in you? No, that sounds weird, I mean because you’re taller than me I can...I can - you do this thing where you put your chin on my head and I can just...I’m not there,”  
  
“You’re not...there?”  
  
“I don't know, I just...it makes me feel safe,”

“Okay,” Connor says, lying on his side, “Come on then,”

Kevin smiles gratefully and crawls down the sofa. He fits right into Connor’s arms and presses himself against him as much as possible. His eyes flutter shut when he feels Connor pressing kisses into his hair.

“I can’t believe the great Kevin Price likes to be snuggled,”

“Shut up,” Kevin mutters, “there’s nothing wrong with being little spoon,”

“I mean, little spoon _and_ a bottom?” Connor says, “Who’d have thought?”

Kevin scowls and twists around in Connor’s arms, “Carry on like this and I'll never have sex with you again,”

Connor chuckles and kisses his forehead, "Are you in work tomorrow?"

“No,” Kevin yawns, “I have the next two days off,”

“So I have you all to myself for the next two days?”

_For the next two days, and all the time after that,_ Kevin thinks to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update, but thanks for reading!! Trying to end this right was painful buttt I hope you enjoyed it!!  
> <3


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